Or in laymen's terms, boat shoes! I just purchased a standard pair of boat shoes on ebay, for $20 off the standard price, and the ones I got are new, so I thought it was a pretty good deal. I'll be working on the Elissa this summer, and possibly on other boats next fall, and I decided I just really wanted some boat shoes. They are all-purpose shoes, similar to sandals in that you can pretty much pair them with any casual-semicasual outfit to give it that added something. They will also, I'm hoping, remind me of how much I love working on the Elissa, and how I want to be out there in Galveston once a week for as many weeks as I can. I hope to be able to sleep on board, as that would really add to the maritime mystique and that's what I'm all about.
Just a few thoughts before I hit the sack.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
100 Days of Summer: Day 1
Today is the 146th day of 2010. 100 days and one summer vacation stand between me and college, and I thought I would make a project for myself: I will post one blog entry every day of this summer vacation, and make a record of this last high school summer. I do not require that my posts should be long or interesting, but simply the things I would want to read in some forgotten journal from the past. Basic, every day stuff. A log of me, if you will.
This morning I overslept, waking at mom's insistence at 6:58 am. I wasn't too worried about it. Finals week, which this is, is not terribly concerning, as I've already had my hardest exam yesterday (Physics, on which I made a 58, which brought my overall semester average down to an 83. Thank god I made 90s the rest of the year!). Today I just finished BCIS, the easiest test ever (we were given time before the test to go over all of the test questions and answers). Tomorrow I have English IV, which should be a breeze, though I have to write a paper on it. It's only on about half of The Merchant of Vinice, so no worries. I saw Merchant two years ago at Windale, and the year before that with the Actors from the London Stage, both of whom made a lasting and good impression on my mind. I am well acquainted with the story, and as such am expecting to perform well tomorrow. I suppose I can tell you tomorrow how it turns out.
I am terribly excited for college. I just keep thinking of all the cool things that I'll be privy to: The USS Constellation, Lancaster County's Amish community, the Atlantic ocean, Washington D.C., Baltimore's Inner Harbor, Choreographie Antique (historic dance course I'll be signing up for), all the area museums, the Chesapeake Bay maritime history, and more that I can't even remember! Needless to say, I'm really interested in history, and am hankering to get up there.
The rich maritime history is especially exciting, as they posesses so much more of it than we do down here in the Gulf. The Houston Channel is not exactly a hotbed of historic ship ventures, although we are blessed with The Elissa. In Baltimore I'll be able to attend Chantey Sings - which is really cool!
My new location has also rekindled the fire in me to reenact. I suppose I should speak of that on my reenactment blog, but I'm in no mood to try and upkeep on two different blogs. It doesnt' work to have two journals, and I'm pretty sure blogs follow the same time-committment laws as physical logs do. Weirdly enough, I'm interested in reenacting as a boy, a ship's boy to be exact. But I'm not sure the time-to-economic ratio is very good. I'll be in college, and then having something to do outside of school (code for not as often as I'd like) with a hefty price tag (if I bought the togs I'd be out of pocket around $400) doesn't sound too do-able.
Well, it's something I'll be back tomorrow. Right now there's a terribly heated religious vs. science debate, and I can't concentrate.
This morning I overslept, waking at mom's insistence at 6:58 am. I wasn't too worried about it. Finals week, which this is, is not terribly concerning, as I've already had my hardest exam yesterday (Physics, on which I made a 58, which brought my overall semester average down to an 83. Thank god I made 90s the rest of the year!). Today I just finished BCIS, the easiest test ever (we were given time before the test to go over all of the test questions and answers). Tomorrow I have English IV, which should be a breeze, though I have to write a paper on it. It's only on about half of The Merchant of Vinice, so no worries. I saw Merchant two years ago at Windale, and the year before that with the Actors from the London Stage, both of whom made a lasting and good impression on my mind. I am well acquainted with the story, and as such am expecting to perform well tomorrow. I suppose I can tell you tomorrow how it turns out.
I am terribly excited for college. I just keep thinking of all the cool things that I'll be privy to: The USS Constellation, Lancaster County's Amish community, the Atlantic ocean, Washington D.C., Baltimore's Inner Harbor, Choreographie Antique (historic dance course I'll be signing up for), all the area museums, the Chesapeake Bay maritime history, and more that I can't even remember! Needless to say, I'm really interested in history, and am hankering to get up there.
The rich maritime history is especially exciting, as they posesses so much more of it than we do down here in the Gulf. The Houston Channel is not exactly a hotbed of historic ship ventures, although we are blessed with The Elissa. In Baltimore I'll be able to attend Chantey Sings - which is really cool!
My new location has also rekindled the fire in me to reenact. I suppose I should speak of that on my reenactment blog, but I'm in no mood to try and upkeep on two different blogs. It doesnt' work to have two journals, and I'm pretty sure blogs follow the same time-committment laws as physical logs do. Weirdly enough, I'm interested in reenacting as a boy, a ship's boy to be exact. But I'm not sure the time-to-economic ratio is very good. I'll be in college, and then having something to do outside of school (code for not as often as I'd like) with a hefty price tag (if I bought the togs I'd be out of pocket around $400) doesn't sound too do-able.
Well, it's something I'll be back tomorrow. Right now there's a terribly heated religious vs. science debate, and I can't concentrate.
Monday, May 17, 2010
I'm writing a screenplay. I think.
You see, I'm not sure I'll be able to stick with the story I have so far, which is not such a great thing. How do people do it? Stick with one story, I mean. I get tired of them by the time I've finished with the plot outline. Or more specifically, I get side-tracked and interested in another plot seed. What gives? I guess I need to learn not to be so distractible. I think I shall post what I have so far in my plot and see what people think. If there are any people out there looking at this insignificant and infrequent blog. As I work with this, however, I am not sure a screenplay is the best idea. I actually think that writing a novel is a better idea. Anyway, this is what I have so far.
Working Title: Foxborough Summer
Time: Present Day, summer
Location: West Maryland, around Cumberland
Fictional estate, Foxborough, established in 1690 by Adam Compton. The main house is an historic landmark, with an original wing of the 1695, and additions dating from 1740, 1786, 1805, and 1897. Preserved and run for over three hundred years by the same family, though the name sometimes changed between several old families in the area: Compton, Turner, Green, Atwood, Jones. Esther Compton was born in 1923, and married Calvin Turner in 1950. Esther's only child Alice Turner was born in 1957 and wed out of the area to a Southern gentleman named Eric White. Their only daughter Emma White is the heroine of Foxborough Summer. Esther's sister, Rose Turner is the current owner. Rose having no children, and Alice having refused inheritance, has forced the inheritance to fall to William Edward Compton, who like Emma is the great great great grandchild of Edward Compton.
The summer after her senior year, Emma White gets an invitation from her reclusive great aunt Rose Turner to spend the summer at the family estate, Foxborough. Although her mother Alice has never spoken much about her estranged family, Emma has heard enough to know it is a grand affair, and her curiosity is piqued by the old-fashioned stationary of the letter and the old photographs of her mother as a child in Foxborough. Alice tries to convince Emma not to go, but Eric, her father, argues that it would be good to know about her family history. In an argument between Eric and Alice, overheard by Emma, Eric points out that Emma should know what she's giving up. Emma doesn't know what she's giving up, but guesses that Eric is referring to her mother's side of the family.
Eighty year old Rose Turner is a reclusive and taciturn individual, hardly leaving her suite of rooms and leaving the operation of the estate to the aging generation of several local families. The Joneses and Greens manage the house and immediate grounds and the Atwoods, Kidwells, and Redhorns operate the horti- and agriculture. Emma's great-aunt doesn't interfere, save to take enough from the harvests to live on.
Emma arrives with a bunch of movies and novels, as she expects a rather long and boring summer. But once there, she is charmed by the history of the place. Photos, letters, clothes, old LPs, and her great grandmother's diary are all discovered in a trunk in on of the barns. She elicits the help of a local boy, Will Compton, in renovating the Model T in the carriage shed. Will doesn't tell her that they are related, or that he is in line to inherit the estate and is seriously considering rejecting the inheritance. She realizes that they are thrice-removed cousins while reading the old letters and looking at family records and talking to Nancy Compton, his mother. Will feels out what she thinks of the place as they grow closer, and when they eventually fall in love he decides to accept his inheritance if she will marry him. Emma loves Foxborough, but she is frightened by the long history there, and the inevitability of her life there - she finally learns of Will's inheritance from Rose, who begins to ask Emma in to discuss the future of the estate. Alice, too, felt this fear, which is why she ran away to New Mexico. Rose has decided to sell the estate to some local farmers if William doesn't accept the responsibility (could this be a ruse that Rose devises to convince Emma to stay with William?).
One big deciding factor of whether she should get closer to William and try to stay with Foxborough is what college Emma will go to in the fall. Her top choice school, Johns Hopkins University, has put her on its wait-list, and if she doesn't get in she'll be attending Pomona College, in California. William is desperate for her to go to J.H., and finally goes to Rose to ask if the old woman would give him enough of his inheritance money now to pay for Emma's tuition (it's more than Alice and Eric can pay twice over, even with Emma's scholarships). Rose knows William's love is true, and allows for what he asks. Still, they have to wait for the letter from J.H.. At the end she does get in, and Will explains that the estate will pay for her to attend. There is a local custom in the area that has been around since the early settlers that declares married (at least in tradition) any couple who makes love on a large stone embedded in the side of Compton Hill. Well, before Will was certain of Emma's remaining in Maryland, he took her out to the top of the enormous rock and they made love for the first time there. It was near the end of the summer, and only two weeks before she was set to hear from J.H. He didn't tell her about the custom. But Rose does; Emma asks, at Alice's prompting, what the whole thing meant. Rose explains that there was some american indian custom involving seven revolutions and lovemaking on that rock that sealed the marriage in the tribe's eyes, and those elements remained in the local folklore. Youth still perform the rite the night of their wedding day. Emma freaks out, and stops seeing William. But the night before she is set to leave, she dreams of her and Will's children living in Foxborough, and the next day she gets the letter from J.H. giving her a place in the freshman class. So she goes to Will and accepts her fate.
This is rough, I'll warrant, but I'm hoping to coax a good story out of it!
You see, I'm not sure I'll be able to stick with the story I have so far, which is not such a great thing. How do people do it? Stick with one story, I mean. I get tired of them by the time I've finished with the plot outline. Or more specifically, I get side-tracked and interested in another plot seed. What gives? I guess I need to learn not to be so distractible. I think I shall post what I have so far in my plot and see what people think. If there are any people out there looking at this insignificant and infrequent blog. As I work with this, however, I am not sure a screenplay is the best idea. I actually think that writing a novel is a better idea. Anyway, this is what I have so far.
Working Title: Foxborough Summer
Time: Present Day, summer
Location: West Maryland, around Cumberland
Fictional estate, Foxborough, established in 1690 by Adam Compton. The main house is an historic landmark, with an original wing of the 1695, and additions dating from 1740, 1786, 1805, and 1897. Preserved and run for over three hundred years by the same family, though the name sometimes changed between several old families in the area: Compton, Turner, Green, Atwood, Jones. Esther Compton was born in 1923, and married Calvin Turner in 1950. Esther's only child Alice Turner was born in 1957 and wed out of the area to a Southern gentleman named Eric White. Their only daughter Emma White is the heroine of Foxborough Summer. Esther's sister, Rose Turner is the current owner. Rose having no children, and Alice having refused inheritance, has forced the inheritance to fall to William Edward Compton, who like Emma is the great great great grandchild of Edward Compton.
The summer after her senior year, Emma White gets an invitation from her reclusive great aunt Rose Turner to spend the summer at the family estate, Foxborough. Although her mother Alice has never spoken much about her estranged family, Emma has heard enough to know it is a grand affair, and her curiosity is piqued by the old-fashioned stationary of the letter and the old photographs of her mother as a child in Foxborough. Alice tries to convince Emma not to go, but Eric, her father, argues that it would be good to know about her family history. In an argument between Eric and Alice, overheard by Emma, Eric points out that Emma should know what she's giving up. Emma doesn't know what she's giving up, but guesses that Eric is referring to her mother's side of the family.
Eighty year old Rose Turner is a reclusive and taciturn individual, hardly leaving her suite of rooms and leaving the operation of the estate to the aging generation of several local families. The Joneses and Greens manage the house and immediate grounds and the Atwoods, Kidwells, and Redhorns operate the horti- and agriculture. Emma's great-aunt doesn't interfere, save to take enough from the harvests to live on.
Emma arrives with a bunch of movies and novels, as she expects a rather long and boring summer. But once there, she is charmed by the history of the place. Photos, letters, clothes, old LPs, and her great grandmother's diary are all discovered in a trunk in on of the barns. She elicits the help of a local boy, Will Compton, in renovating the Model T in the carriage shed. Will doesn't tell her that they are related, or that he is in line to inherit the estate and is seriously considering rejecting the inheritance. She realizes that they are thrice-removed cousins while reading the old letters and looking at family records and talking to Nancy Compton, his mother. Will feels out what she thinks of the place as they grow closer, and when they eventually fall in love he decides to accept his inheritance if she will marry him. Emma loves Foxborough, but she is frightened by the long history there, and the inevitability of her life there - she finally learns of Will's inheritance from Rose, who begins to ask Emma in to discuss the future of the estate. Alice, too, felt this fear, which is why she ran away to New Mexico. Rose has decided to sell the estate to some local farmers if William doesn't accept the responsibility (could this be a ruse that Rose devises to convince Emma to stay with William?).
One big deciding factor of whether she should get closer to William and try to stay with Foxborough is what college Emma will go to in the fall. Her top choice school, Johns Hopkins University, has put her on its wait-list, and if she doesn't get in she'll be attending Pomona College, in California. William is desperate for her to go to J.H., and finally goes to Rose to ask if the old woman would give him enough of his inheritance money now to pay for Emma's tuition (it's more than Alice and Eric can pay twice over, even with Emma's scholarships). Rose knows William's love is true, and allows for what he asks. Still, they have to wait for the letter from J.H.. At the end she does get in, and Will explains that the estate will pay for her to attend. There is a local custom in the area that has been around since the early settlers that declares married (at least in tradition) any couple who makes love on a large stone embedded in the side of Compton Hill. Well, before Will was certain of Emma's remaining in Maryland, he took her out to the top of the enormous rock and they made love for the first time there. It was near the end of the summer, and only two weeks before she was set to hear from J.H. He didn't tell her about the custom. But Rose does; Emma asks, at Alice's prompting, what the whole thing meant. Rose explains that there was some american indian custom involving seven revolutions and lovemaking on that rock that sealed the marriage in the tribe's eyes, and those elements remained in the local folklore. Youth still perform the rite the night of their wedding day. Emma freaks out, and stops seeing William. But the night before she is set to leave, she dreams of her and Will's children living in Foxborough, and the next day she gets the letter from J.H. giving her a place in the freshman class. So she goes to Will and accepts her fate.
This is rough, I'll warrant, but I'm hoping to coax a good story out of it!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Graduation to Life
My my... how long ago my last post feels! How far removed from that girl I seem to be. But I know it's just my way of ignoring the basic fact that I am horribly melodramatic and romantic about life in general.
Things, many many things have happened since March. April and May brought with them the short sweetness of spring, but the baking heat of summer has finally descended upon us. My senior recital is now just a memory of a wonderful performance and a great party afterwards. My first love is now concluded, and my last performance at PVA is, too. Love, what a funny thing. It tore me up, even drove me mad for several days there. I know that was tame though, because what I experienced wasn't that terrible. In fact, I was all torn up mostly because I was afraid to talk to the boy. Now I have my disappointment, but after telling him how I felt I have no regrets.
I am now officially a member of the Goucher College Class of 2014! I ended up choosing in the final week before the deadline, after visiting and falling in love with the campus, college, people. High school is now really coming to an end, and I'm torn between impatience for summer and nostalgia and sadness for losing my friends. I have really only cultivated friendships in school this semester, as the pressure and rigor of school has gradually let up. And now we'll all be leaving. I feel that I haven't and wont be able to spend the quality time with all of my amazing friends that I wish I could, but I suppose that is life. We'll go off to our futures, and leave the past behind.
Something I've been thinking about recently is expectations. Realistically, I don't think my college expectations are very realistic. In college, I am expecting:
Things, many many things have happened since March. April and May brought with them the short sweetness of spring, but the baking heat of summer has finally descended upon us. My senior recital is now just a memory of a wonderful performance and a great party afterwards. My first love is now concluded, and my last performance at PVA is, too. Love, what a funny thing. It tore me up, even drove me mad for several days there. I know that was tame though, because what I experienced wasn't that terrible. In fact, I was all torn up mostly because I was afraid to talk to the boy. Now I have my disappointment, but after telling him how I felt I have no regrets.
I am now officially a member of the Goucher College Class of 2014! I ended up choosing in the final week before the deadline, after visiting and falling in love with the campus, college, people. High school is now really coming to an end, and I'm torn between impatience for summer and nostalgia and sadness for losing my friends. I have really only cultivated friendships in school this semester, as the pressure and rigor of school has gradually let up. And now we'll all be leaving. I feel that I haven't and wont be able to spend the quality time with all of my amazing friends that I wish I could, but I suppose that is life. We'll go off to our futures, and leave the past behind.
Something I've been thinking about recently is expectations. Realistically, I don't think my college expectations are very realistic. In college, I am expecting:
- to find true love, or at least a boyfriend, right away
- to make a bunch of great friends
- to do fantastically well in all of my classes
- to have better habits
- to be a much cooler, more refined and sophisticated version of myself
- to be able to go by "Rose", my middle name
- to dislike my roommate
- to love my teachers
- to party with class
We'll see how this pans out, but I'm sure that in six months I'll be striking through several of these, and adding several more.
I'm off now to work on my screenplay, which I would be filming this summer in fantasyland. Realistically, I'll probably never finish the script.
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