London At My Fingers

There's something pure and enchanting about knowing the long traveled route you're on is pointed toward home. It's almost a comforting hug which envelopes you, making you feel serene and untouchable. No matter what has happened in the past, what is happening in the present, or what will happen in the future, you get to go to a place you know with a fresh mind. A fresh mind, but an old comfortable feeling. What could be better?

This last week I was in Europe. Germany and Austria, then London. It changed the way I think of myself, the way I eat, and the outlook I have on other people. Truly wonderful. To all you who are from anywhere even around these areas, you live in a beautiful world.

It was weird to go from majestic mountains to linking subways. But it was also quite wonderful. I loved walking everywhere and taking trains to get to a far away destination. With my Oyster card, London was at my finger tips.

I've always longed to travel and this was my first experience out of the country (unless you count Canada. Love you, Canadians) so it was a big deal. You Europeans have odd elevators, odd light switches, and I don't like the fact you have to pay to use the restroom. But you also have the most amazing food and move at an amazingly different paces than Americans do. You usually don't rush, and dinner is a social gathering. Amazing.

Compare that to our get up and go attitudes toward life. No wonder my favorite poets and authors are European. They actually have time to think.

And now that I'm home, I'll try to do the same. 

June-uary.

Excitement is brewing like a fresh pot of coffee... On steroids...

This month was a giant mix of feelings. And being a girl, my emotions drive allot of what I do and act. I try to resist them becoming the road map by which I fallow, but a lot of times that falls through. But!

Things are finally starting to look up! What fun.

I figure the best way to educate you (without over whelming) in what has been going on in my life is to answer the forever-there questions- Who? What? When? Where? and Why?

Who- This month it's been mostly God and I conversing for the most part. And it's been very wonderful. What better best friend than God? Yes, I've been seeing friends, but this month has been a month of solitude for me. Deep thinking, you could say.

What- Music. Lots and lots of music. Abundant amounts of music. Music fills my brain and reaches to the far corners where I hide memories, dragging them out. Put that way, it might not seem all too pleasant. But, trust me, it is. This month I really tried to concentrate on finishing songs and preparing them for recording. I made a list, marked off which ones were done, and finished the ones which weren't. Now I'm in the midst of choosing songs for an EP or, quite possibly, an Album. Exciting (and nerve racking) stuff, and I never go a day without thinking about what it will look like once finished. My life wont change all that much, but it might at least start the process. And to just finish off my music paragraph, I'm in the midst of building a recording studio/music room in my basement. Oh what fun.

AND, also writing. Writing is my "escape" from music. Or, my escape from my escape from life. Everybody need an escape from their escape, right? But oh, if only blogging was considered my literature and music theory considered my math. Then the world will be turning in the right direction.

When- I really can't answer this nor understand what it applies to in my life right now, so I'll just skip it.

Where- This month I got some very exciting news. Some news which will make some jealous and some spiteful. I will not give specifics as of now, but I am going somewhere very exciting. It's about a 2 hour drive, 3 hour wait, and 9 hour flight away. My heart is fluttering just thinking about this trip.

Why- Why am I telling you all this? Why, because your my willing eyes! And I feel like I needed to repay you all with a glimpse into my January. Which, due to the weather being 70 yesterday, I'm not calling June-uary.

And there goes my brother playing drums and messing up my train of thought. Joy.

Before I leave off I must applaud you all for braving this far into the Blog. I know, I'm not the most interesting person, but I don't know what I'd do if I wasn't writing words, and in turn, knowing that their are people like you to read them. So, thank you.

And if you are a fan of my Facebook page for my music, than thank you all the more! It's so much appreciated, you have no idea. And for those of you who would like to get in on this appreciation, go to this link and hit the "Like" button and be as cool as all those other people. I'll be putting some more stuff up very soon. Pinky-promise.

Sorry if I bored you all to death, I just felt like I needed to write. Yes, needed.

Until next time, all you lovely people. 

Nothing Is Impossible! Except, You Know, That.

First, I'll start off by giving myself a pat on the back for posting TWO Blogs within 4 days. To that I say, go me.

Second, as allot of you may already know, I posted my first cover last night. For this being my first time actually finishing a cover I think it was pretty ok. Go to this link and you can not only listen to it, but download it. What is this madness? Listen, Tweet, Status, reblog, and simply share it. It's much appreciated.

Lately my idealist state of mind has been getting me into trouble. Not literal trouble, no grounding or shaming was had, but trouble with myself. I don't quite know exactly why it's decided to show itself so much so suddenly, but it has.

For those of you who are not such, there for, don't fully get the concept of an idealist, here-

-Idealist-
–noun

1.

a person who cherishes or pursues high or noble principles,purposes, goals, etc.

2.

a visionary or impractical person.

3.

a person who represents things as they might or should berather than as they are.

4.

a writer or artist who treats subjects imaginatively.

5.

a person who accepts the doctrines of idealism.

There ya go.

Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining about this. I'm merely saying that it's a gift and a curse. Like every temperament, it has it's pros and cons. Realists don't spend enough time imagining and can be rather depressing to talk to, idealists spend too much time imagining and making up impossible situations and can be annoying to talk to.

Great stories come from thinking hours on end about what COULD happen if THAT happens or what MIGHT happen if THIS happens. I feel light hearted quite often and try to see the beauty in everything. Because if theirs beauty, theres possibility. And even when there is no hope left, I always have a smidgen hidden in my pocket to take out and look at when I'm lying in bed at night. I can truly say that I'm happy most the time because of this. I don't know if that will change as I grow older. Maybe instead of seeing light at the end of the tunnel I'll see just endless black. But I hope that doesn't happen. But sooner or later I have to step back and say, "That will NEVER happen." Which is very hard for me. Once I get my heart set on something it's there to stay. So theres allot of poking and prodding after admitting that to myself. I have to analyze myself and reanalyze myself. Each time taking a bit more of my heart and feelings away until all I have left is reality. Which is a sad day, because I've never quite liked reality. Ever since I was a wee tike I was the one who was always in their own little world. Never venturing outside of it until dinner was called. But after all I have left is reality I usually have to shift my inspiration as well. So basically, I rebuild part of my life from the ground up. The only thing remaining is God. The Foundation. Because He never changes. And I'm slowly learning that it's pointless to lean all your weight on a wall unless God's holding onto you. Because then, it's not such a big deal when your goals collapse. You're main one is still there and will forever be.

With all that said, I leave you with this-

-Nevertheless, God’s solid foundation stands firm, sealed with this inscription: “The Lord knows those who are his,” and, “Everyone who confesses the name of the Lord must turn away from wickedness.”-

Snowflakes Are Falling On My Head

This is the story about the beauty of snow. But first, a lesson from a Minnesotan to all you southerners.

To all you southerners who are not use to snow, there is only one way to make sure you last longer than 5 minutes outside in the snow before your legs start to fall off. And that is layers.

This morning when I drug myself out of bed to get dressed I had to run through the process of winter weather wear in my head to remind myself it's better safe than sorry. So I figured I'd give you a lesson as well.

First, if your a girl, leggings and/or Long Jons are a must. They fit nice and snug under your skin tight skinny jeans and keep you a good 10 degrees warmer. Second, double long sleeves. No, this is not over kill. Unless you so wish to throw yourself in the snow for a snow angel and end up with frozen limbs and a trip to the fireplace instead. Next comes my favorite- Double socks. Yes, double socks. It's amazing how cold your toes are capable of getting. And make sure you wear BOOTS. Not converse, not TOMS, not Vans, BOOTS. Got it? Then comes the usual. A heavy jacket or coat and gloves. I personally skipped out on the hat and went for fuzzy earmuffs instead. But if you wish to wear a hat, go for it.

Undoudtedly once you've been outside for 10 minutes you'll realize you are still cold and your legs are still numb. I'm sorry, but no amount of clothing can help this. It's an inevitable thing of life that can only be made better, not taken away.

You may also realize something else. Your nose is FREEEEEEEZZZZIINNGGGGG. This is another one of life's laughing matters. Because there is now possible way to keep your nose warm without looking like the little boy from A Christmas Story and your neighbor not being able to hear anything but, "Hhhhur Mhr Ghhra hu Wuuhg." When you say "Top of the morning to you." And we wouldn't want that, would we? But I promise that no matter how stingy, chilly, or drippy your nose may get that it will not fall off. My nose has braved many a winter and it is still with me till this day.

After getting clad in my chain mail against the enemy, so to say, I immediately grabbed my iPod and stumbled out the front door and started trudging through the snow. It was dry, icy business. A layer of ice had formed on top of the powdery snow and made trudging loud. Awkward stares were had by the few people out. But I didn't mind. Port Blue was pouring through my headphones and everything was beautiful. Not a trace of homesickness was felt in my heart and I knew this was going to be a wonderful walk.

I started off just walking up my road. My goal was to get lost in my own neighbor hood, but that is easier said than done and regrettably did not end up happening. Every step I wished for a neighborhood friend to play with and shove snow down each others coats like in Minnesota. It was just slightly heart wrenching to see the neighborhood children running around and pushing each other in snow heaps. As you get older, you start spending more and more time alone and I'm still getting use to that fact. But the nip of the midwest was a familiar on my rosie cheeks and I decided to spend the remainder of my walk consulting my Best Friend. Along my journey I decided to see how snowball capable the snow was. So I picked up a clump and quickly realized that the melting technique was needed. And from then on I continued to randomly smash the thin ice on peoples trashcans and grab handfuls of snow, rubbing it in to semi-melt it into a perfect ball shape.

As I passed the neighborhood playground I seriously considered being the immature teenager who climbs on the roof to form snow angels and write cheesy poems in the snow. Or twirl around from pole to pole screaming "Whoooooo!" with my tongue sticking out to catch the falling freezing rain. Or, ya know, swing on the swing set... But just as I was standing in front of the gate I decided to withdraw my presents. I don't know why. Perhaps I just felt out of place. But non the less, I walked on. The more I walked, the colder and wetter I got. The colder I got, the more alive I felt. The more alive I felt, the more I noticed the beauty in every bit of God's creation. The more I noticed, the more words came flooding to my head. The more words came, the more I felt like myself. And the more I felt like myself, the more I was happy. Not just happy, content and willing. There's just something so beautiful about the cold and snow. It makes everything it touches beautiful. Like a gentle kiss from heaven. I noticed the once flowered trees that hang over the sidewalk's bare branches, the heaviness of my UGGs as the slush and snow collected on the bottoms causing my steps to weigh 2 extra pounds. Everything was illuminated.

By this time my snow ball was the size of my hand. Every stop sign I passed I contemplated throwing it at. Except anyone who knows me knows I have a terrible arm and would likely sooner hit the person shoveling their driveway 10 feet away than the big, red stop sign 5 feet in front of me. I could just see myself trying to explain this to a red faced middle aged man with a medal shovel gripped in both hands. So I decided against that as well. All the same, every family I passed seemed to keep a watchful eye on the suspicious looking teenager with a giant snowball made out of half ice. I don't blame them.

When I finally decided to turn back(after wondering through half my large neighborhood) it seemed like everyone had decided to come out to the world of the living at once. Dads were driving 4x4s while their daughters hung off the back with a smile that could melt the heart of the Winter Warlock, people were playing catch, two year olds were building their first snowman, and you couldn't go 10 feet without someone flashing you a smile and saying, "Lovely day!". To this I would of course reply, "Oh yes! Cold, but perfect." while pretending I could actually hear them perfectly through my music. It's amazing what a difference in weather does to people.

Once I entered my street the change of pace was staggering. Our hill down to the Col-de-sac had been turned into a ski slope with even the parents enjoying themselves. I watched at a distance for a while before deciding to go inside and have lunch.

I don't know why I felt the need to dump all of this on you guys. I guess to make up for my depression over Tumblr. I could say so much more about how my indoor experience today has been. Like how at the moment my dad and mother are baking cookies and blasting German, trying to decode it... But I wont. I've already been typing for 2+ hours. I shall not bore you any longer.

Stay safe.

The Between Time

    Only two days ago was one of the most anticipated days out of 365 in a year.

Christmas.

Even the sheer word of it greats in most a feeling of extreme joy, happiness, and contentment. It's the day that kids and teens alike store up in there memory and count down the days till. I will admit I was one of those kids which in the middle of the summer would see something I wanted and go, "Oooooo. I'll ask for that for Christmas." And as I've gotten older, the excitement of the Christmas season hasn't changed much. The lights, the sound, (and yes,) the snow... It's hard to believe that it's already over. There was waiting, feasting, chatting, unwrapping, curclacking, shurlacking, mushtaking... You get the gist. But, within 48 hours the excitement was over. How depressing.

But as everyone finds out, when one thing ends, another takes its place. And right after Christmas comes New Years. And a little after New Years comes Valentines day. But in-between Christmas and New Years Eve is a span of 7 days in which nothing happens. It's just utter.... Boredom, free time, loneliness... Pick a word. But the bottom line is that you have nothing but time to do whatever you so choose to do. Over the years I have named this and it's sort of become a Holiday of it's own in my heart. Everyone, please become acquainted with- The Between Time.

Let's just go ahead and admit to ourselves that when we have an abundance of time on our hands and nothing to do with it (unless you're a guy...), we think allot. Too much. There's no school, very few friends, and too much time to think. That's The Between Time. It's when you consider things you'd never consider and think about changing certain areas of your life. It's when you let your dreams break through your ordinary life.

So here is me saying, happy Between Time! May your mind wonder (but not too much) and your dreams break through.

I know my Blogs are very spaced out. And I'm sorry. I just have no time in my life for extra stuff. I already live 4 separate lives. My dance life, music life, book/writing life, and school life. It's a taught world. So I'll also leave you with happy new year! Don't forget to celebrate with friends, drink some Sparkling Apple Cider, and kiss your hubby when the clock strikes twelve.

Love you all.

Once Upon This Sleepy Town...

So, what happened is that I wrote this in the car on the way to the beach on WORD and I TOTALLY forgot about it. We drove through a town in Alabama and the vibe it gave off (and the way I felt) immediately got my attention. So here ya go. 

I am writing to you all from approximately the left side of the middle seats in my van. The view is pleasant as we drive through the sleepy town of Eufala, Al. A town lost in time, you might say, seeming to await for the right time to awake… But that time never comes. Perhaps I should start at the begging of our journey, so you can better get why I’m here and where I’m headed.

 It started out as any other ordinary day, awoken to my moms voice, drug myself out of my raffled bed with the same swimmy headedness I have every morning. Except it wasn’t like every morning. I slowly changed my clothes to cut off shorts, my surfing shirt, a favorite boy-friend vest, and a bright orange bandana tied as a flip-sided headband over my head. In a “mammy” style of sorts.

I gracefully tumbled down the stairs in my usual fashion, and greeted my mother, grand parents, and sister. I must admit, it was too early for my loner self to surrender myself to family. But it didn’t matter, my mind was crisp as a piece of paper and I was ready to tackle this next adventure in front of me. Walking out to the garage I spotted my dad working his magic with the van. Skillfully placing every piece of our luggage in a distinct place, like a puzzle he had done many time before and succeeded. Which, we all knew, was the truth of it all, as my family can easily fill two cars with just our suite cases. Handing him Alice I noticed that my brother-in-law and sister number two had arrived with two other family members- their two little Yorkies, Haley and Oliver. The whole family was now together for one sole event, the beach. A little beach house we had rented for 5 days of bliss. In the words of sister number one, “’Vacation’ is a foreign word to the Doss family.” So true.

Approximately 30 minutes later my mother, grand parents, dogs (Precious, Maggie, Haley, and Oliver), sisters, and brother-in-law all piled into the two suppurate cars bound for the beach and waved goodbye to my daddy and brother (of which were suppose to meet us at the beach at approximately 5:00 in the morning.)

Then we were off! I was then stuck in the car for an 8-hour drive. Superb. We grabbed Starbucks alone the way (because nobody was very thrilled to be in the car this early), and got on the highway. I immediately threw my head phones on (after pulling on a pair of pure white knee socks, as is customary for my car travels.), turned up the already-loud volume, and let the blissful, serene sound of Owl City, Cady Groves, Chase Coy, and Sky Sailing run through my body and influence my dreamy thoughts as I looked out the window. During this I notice the clouds. They had a wispy, wistful curve to their thin figure. Pure white against the clear blue sky. And then I was lost in though and did not submerge until lunch.

 After a few hours of reading my new book, listening to music, and trying to keep my dog of my shoulders, we ended up in this small town. A pure southern town, it is. I currently put down my book, picked up my computer, and allowed Cady Groves folky voice to run through my headphones. (If ever there was a soundtrack for this town, it is definitely Cady Groves’ first EP, “A Month Of Sundays”.) The town seems a bit tired and sad compared to the city life I’ve always loved, but at the same time completely perfect in the bring sun and warm breeze. A simple picture of serene ambience.  

For This I Am Thankful...

   *Sighhhh.* Dare I be one of the cliche bloggers to post a Blog about being thankful? Due to Thanks Giving just around the corner. Or more... Staring into our faces. Because... It's only days away. Ehem.

So here are the traditions of the Doss family for Thanksgiving.

I wake up late and eat a lukewarm breakfast. Usually consisting of sausage. Then sit around like a vegetable watching the parade and being taunted my the smell of food. But these exciting events aren't what make Thanksgiving awesome for me. It's two things really. 1. The family actually all sitting at one table for a meal. And 2. The dishes my mom makes.

I could go very deep into the reason number one, but I will restrain myself.

As for number two... Every year since I could remember my mom has made certain dishes for Thanksgiving. A few of these are Smackin' Cheese (Haha), Anti-Giblet Gravy, Sweet Potato Casserole, and so much more.

I'll post again soon, but this was just a taste of some more blogs to come. I just wanted to post a little something as a "Sorry for not being around" message.

Thanks. :)