Things I learned and did while 17

As chronologically as possible, starting with my 17th birthday.

• Broken Social Scene's "Anthems For a 17-Year-Old Girl" is highly irrelevant
• Going to the pool with your nieces and nephews is a delicious way to spend a birthday
• I started reading Fahrenheit 451 on my birthday because in the first chapter, the female character introduces herself as "17 and crazy." Thus, my interest was piqued. I have yet to finish the book.
• Listening to swing music while on a stepladder is a very. bad. idea.
• Directing rehearsals for a kids' musical in the dead of summer, outside, is the worst.
• Two of my best friends and I started a movie review blog. It was great. Except that we thought of it at 3 in the morning. That was a year ago, and there are all of two posts.
• Apparently, the death of a hasbeen, pedophile popstar can cause national uproar unlike anything I'd seen.
• The best way to spend a summer is with a sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew.
• It is madness trying to get pictures of 9 siblings, everyone in a different color, making sure that two people standing next to each other don't clash.
• My brother-in-law Dave painted my room. It is gold and sparkly. No kidding. It goes well with my dark purple curtains.
• Having an organ in the house does not necessarily mean that I will ever be motivated enough to learn to play it.
• The people closest to you can easily turn on you out of the blue.
• In one morning, I made 5 dozen orange cake balls, 5 dozen chocolate cake balls, 2 dozen chocolate dipped strawberries and 2 pots of hot tea for a little girls' tea party with their Granny.
• I had 3 WHMC doctors, 4 X-rays and 6 physical therapists tell me that I have a bad back--which I already knew.
• When the power goes out at your house in the middle of summer, your entire family can crash a friend's house and have a wonderful time.
• Holocaust movies are sad, but tolerable. Holocaust movies about children are unbearable.
• I complain too much.
• Texas cake is amazing, but don't ever try to layer it. It was cause of much heartache.
• I made community college much more fun by withholding my age as long as possible, and watching people's faces afterwards.
• My sisters and I went to see Jason Mraz in Austin, and it was life-changing.
• The last musical my sisters and I directed brought out the worst in me. And many other people.
• Never again will I participate another of the aforementioned musical.
• Give grace.
• I look old enough that people don't ask my age before offering me Jello shots.
• I would have done better to refuse the Jello shots.
• One of the best things I did all year was start taking voice lessons.
• L'habite ne fait pas le moine.
• Being claustrophobic and being stuck in an elevator is absolutely no fun.
• Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever take trust for granted.
• See above.
• See above.
• See above.
• Find a healthy way to express yourself.
• It's hard to apologize when you're not ready to be forgiven.
• Be grateful for the people with whom God surrounds you.
• Excessive baking is not the answer.
• I read a Dr. Seuss book in French to some very Texan kids. It was very fun.
• If I find that I've been taking myself too seriously, I go out in public in my green skinny jeans.
• You can never be "prepared enough."
• In January, I tried to quit caffeine until my birthday. I lasted one day.
• Reflect often upon what you are grateful for.
• Journaling in French makes it much more difficult for your sister to read it (as per usual).
• I'd rather listen to truly talented, secular artists than mediocre, watered down Christian artists.
• J'étais française dans une autre vie.
• Frankenstein is an intensely powerful book.
• My lifelong disdain for poetry was rooted in an incomplete poetic education.
• I am now a very big John Keats fan.
• Don't associate with adults who insist on acting like children. In a bad way.
• My metronome has tough love for me.
• Ask yourself what your purpose is.
• My brothers will do literally ANYTHING for sandwiches.
• American Idol is lame.
• This not-being-able-to-drive business is nonsense.
• Taking senior pictures on a windy day is not very fun.
• Breaking ties is hard.
• Don't call yourself secure until you've been called some horrible things and see how you feel.
• La grâce couvre une multitude de péchés.
• Apparently, my heart can break without my even knowing it!
• My expectations for a Christian concert were far too low before seeing Hillsong United.
• Whenever someone begins talking to me by saying my name, it usually means they're being condescending.
• Whenever someone ends a sentence to me with my name, it usually means they're being encouraging or emphatic.
• I made complete strangers think that I only spoke French. It was a good feeling.
• I have been taking my sister CJ for granted for 18 years. Now she's getting married and leaving me. I'm preparing for a hard adjustment.
• I realized that I have a compulsive need to be right. I'm working on it.
• Senioritis is not a myth. It is vicious. It is caused by a mixture of adolescence and 12 consecutive years in school; its symptoms include lethargy, apathy and severe procrastination regarding school, and everything.
• Judging a band by the amount of eyeliner the male lead singer wears (or used to wear) can deafen you to their beautiful music.
• Loving someone out of obligation is not love.
• I graduated high school!
• I spent an entire year preparing for my senior piano recital.
• I played, from memory, seven major piano works at the aforementioned piano recital.
• The people of whom you think well can disappoint you.
• The people of whom you don't think well can surprise you.
• I decided that I don't know what I'm doing with my life, and I was/am okay with that.

from where i sit you're one of a kind

I did it. What did I do? I graduated high school, that's what. While I did not have a formal graduation, I did have a formal senior recital, at which my father handed me my diploma.

I started planning this recital a year ago, after my conservatory's Grand recital--I had just wrapped up my junior year. My piano teacher introduced the idea of doing a senior recital to me, and my thought was, "I have a whole year. I can SO do this. This will be fun." Historically, I do not get nervous before piano recitals, competitions, festivals, etc., so what did I have to do except practice and be excited? My other constant thought was, "I wonder what kind of person I'll be at my senior recital." I thought about that a lot.

So for the next year, I worked diligently on putting together and polishing my repertoire. But before I knew it, my year was almost over. As June 5th got closer and closer, the pressure kept building and I was getting more and more worried and stressed about it. But my parents, teachers and friends all assured me that it would be fine. So I practiced for hours every day, even escaping to the conservatory to play uninterrupted.

Finally, I woke up on June 5th at 9 o'clock, after spending a marvelous night with my sister Beth and three of our closest friends. I got up, took a shower, had bean and cheese tacos for breakfast (compliments of Beth and Chey who left the house without us knowing, and came back with armfulls of Taco Cabana), did my hair and makeup, practiced my pieces for the last time as a high school student, we loaded up the cars and were off to Castle Hills. When we got there, I tried to helpful as my wonderful family and aforementioned friends set everything up, but each time I ended up walking around aimlessly with shaking hands and pounding heart and butterflies in my stomach.

4 o'clock got closer and closer. I got dressed and was told to go hibernate backstage as guests started to arrive. So I had Beth (who was out greeting people) put her phone on speaker so I could hear everything going on, while I was locked away, with nothing to do but marinate in my own nerves. I had a couple visitors--sister CJ and friend Samuel came to check up on me and wish me luck one last time. Then I heard Pawpop voice the opening prayer, I heard Mrs. Woodard introduce me, I felt myself walk down the ramp, explain my first song choice, sit down at the piano bench and think to myself, "Well, I guess this is who I'm going to be at my senior recital." I sent one last prayer heavenward for peace and strength, and I played. After each piece, I left the stage and came back to more applause. I don't really remember what I was doing in my 1/2 minute backstage between pieces. I remember that it felt like a dream. A surreal, intense dream in which I was doing what I know best, and all of the people I love and who love me were watching.

Before I knew it, I thundered the last G of Chopin's Ballade in G Minor, lifted my fingers from their ivory friends and breathed an enormous sigh of relief and gratitude. I took my last bow, came to meet Mrs. Woodard and knew that my legs were shaking and my face was flushed. Dad read from Colossians, handed me my diploma with Mom, prayed, I handed my two amazing piano teachers flowers, then went backstage to change for the third time. Sisters CJ and Aubrey were waiting to help me and make sure I was still breathing (I think I was).

Once I had changed clothes, I went out to my reception, where I spent the next 2 hours being hugged and complimented by close to 200 people who I am grateful to call my family and friends. I was shaking and ridiculously thirsty. Once it was all over and the last guests had left, I collapsed into a chair beside my mother and felt the feeling return to my body.

When it was all said and done and cleaned up, some of my siblings and our good friends went to have dinner and see Letters to Juliet (which was terrible, mind you). Then I came home, talked with my parents about the night, and after lying in bed with my mind racing for about an hour, I fell asleep, waking up in exactly the same position the next morning (being an extremely light sleeper, this NEVER happens to me).

Being the human that I am, my recital was rife with mistakes--tripped cadenzas, jazz chords, a [graceful] transition from triplets to sixteenth notes, a clumsy page-turn, and 8 measures that I up and skipped, but the fact that I did it at all is kind of awesome, isn't it? I didn't have to play a senior recital. I didn't have to memorize 90 minutes worth of music. But I did! And I'm so grateful for that. God gave me a talent, and I got to share it with so many people. I'm ecstatic.

I'm also ecstatic that it's over and I feel so optimistic about where my life will take me, post-high school. It's gonna be great. Want to come?

i'm feelin good

I got to thinking yesterday: I've finished my college classes for the semester, by the end of this month I'll be finished with the last of my high school requirements, by June 5 I'll have finished my senior piano recital. I made the decision to take a gap year next year, for many reasons. So now the questions has hit me: what in the world am I going to do with myself? I'll have an entire year to regain the sanity and order that left me during high school, but beyond continuing to pursue piano and singing, I haven't made very many plans. So I figured I should make some.

During my gap year, I want to:

• get a REAL job
• get my driver's license
• take a road trip by myself
• change someone's life
• smoke a cigarette...just one, once
• become trustworthy
• play pretty music with my friends...often
• stop pretending I'm more hipster than I really am
• [finally] learn to play my organ
• read more books
• start applying myself more to church music
• say "thank you" more
• grow up

Hmm. I'll probably add more as I think of them. That should keep me busy for a while, I'd imagine.

Our God is mighty to save

Hillsong United came to San Antonio two nights ago. While I am not a very big fan of Christian music in general (a story for another time), these guys are amazing. From the moment they took the stage, it was evident that, not only are they phenomenal musicians and showmen, but that they, above all, wanted to glorify God and inspire people to worship with them. The atmosphere was wonderful and full of energy.

The last concert I went to was Jason Mraz's Gratitude Café Tour in Austin. That was the best concert I've ever been to. The difference is that at Mraz's concert, everyone was there solely to see a fantastic musician and hear fantastic music. At Hillsong, everyone was there to, yes, see fantastic musicians, but also to praise God and worship him with this incredible praise band. It was a wonderful experience. Thousands of God's people gathered together to honor and exalt Him.

Savior

He can move the mountains

Our God is mighty to save

He is mighty to save

Forever

Author of salvation

Our God is mighty to save

He is mighty to save

Love, Shelley

"Music is such an expensive habit"

The current most played artists on my iTunes: Jason Mraz, The Beatles, Ingrid Michaelson, The Killers, Tom Petty, Blue October, The Ditty Bops, Regina Spektor, Joshua Radin, Brendan James, Alexa Wilkinson.

I don't know that I would call myself a "music geek." But I'm not sure what I would call myself. I am deeply passionate about music. For the past seven years, I have been paying my dues and doing my time to get to where I am with music. I appreciate good music. I do not appreciate bad music. I have a critical ear. Music is something that everyone loves, but not everyone is good at. It does not necessarily make me mean, arrogant, closed-minded or any less in love with music because I am not afraid to say that a good number of people in popular music are not good musicians. I am entitled to my own opinions as much as you are entitled to disagree with them.

I long to see the day when real musicians dominate popular music once again.

Unfortunately, these days, people are obsessed with the following sad excuses for artists:

Ke$ha. I have a theory that this girl represents everything wrong with popular music. Countless songs about drunken hookups? Check. Autotune? Check. Elementary rhymes? Check. Bonus White Trash factor? Check check.

Orianthi. I will be the first to admit: Orianthi is an incredibly gifted guitarist. The sad thing is, she's not satisfied with that, and seems to think that since she's such a great guitarist, she must be able to sing as well. Sad, sad misunderstanding. Her current single, "According to You," which is topping the charts, is just plain awful. I would not be surprised if a fifth grade girl wrote it.

Justin Bieber. Aside from being essentially a sweatshop kid, who told him it was a good idea to use "Baby, baby, baby oh (x2)" as a chorus? Poor kid.

Miley Cyrus. Sweetheart, try singing without sounding like you have a sinus infection. Also, try not to call yourself a Christian, then pole dance at a kids' awards show. And if you're not too busy, you might give good songwriting a try. You are one of the mass of teenage girls who think that pretty face=pretty voice.

Don't get me wrong, there have been some wonderful exceptions. Jason Mraz almost single-handedly brought real music back into the mainstream. How? Because he knows how to play his instruments well, he has a classically smooth voice, and his use of the English language is unparalleled. Blue October (one of the only rock bands I enjoy) also fought through the mess of bad music to make it. Lead singer Justin Furstenfeld's painfully impassioned voice mixed with their creative and beautiful use of not only electric, but classical instruments and very relatable, yet still original, lyrical concepts made them a very interesting and stimulating band. There are others, such as The Killers, Sara Bareilles, Staind, Ben Folds, etc.

I only wish these amazing musicians and bands weren't up against such nonsense competition and a musically ignorant generation. It's a hard fight upstream. But don't worry, your day is coming soon. One day, everyone will wake up and realize the beauty of real music. For the present, though, to avoid stooping to mediocrity, I am more than content to a) err on the side of indie, where the most wonderful artists reside and make beautiful music for the few people interested, and b) go way back, listening to the music my parents grew up on.

In love and truth, Shelley.

Purpose

I am a Christian. Why? Because God, though I did nothing to deserve it, called me out of death and into eternal life. I am His and He is mine. Forever. Because of this marvelous grace, I strive to live my life as He commands. It is an impossible task, because He is perfect and I am not (hence the grace). But I still purpose to glorify Him in everything I do. I also identify myself as a Calvinist. My personal beliefs have aligned themselves with the Scriptural teachings of John Calvin. I am aware that most Christians do not hold the same views that I do. I will gladly and enthusiastically enter into a theological debate with you about what I believe and defend it with Scripture, but it is not my calling to make Calvinists of all nations. It is my calling to make disciples of all nations. My non-Calvinist colleagues and friends are no less-saved than I am.

I am a daughter. It is my responsibility as such to respect and honor my parents. I am expected to follow every rule, command and advice from my parents. You would think that seeing as how I have the most wonderful parents in the world, it would be ridiculously easy for me to do so. Unfortunately, this is not the case. God knows I have pushed (and broken) their boundaries countless times. But at the end of the day, I know that they still love me, I know that I love them, and that is enough for me to try my hardest not to make the same mistakes again.

I am a sister. I have been blessed with the eight most fantastic people ever as my siblings. We have our disagreements, of course, but we are each other's family and best friends, and I owe it to all of them to love them unconditionally and forgive every flaw. It is my privilege to be there for all of them when they need me, to buy them a drink, to bring them a bowl in which to vomit, to aimlessly chatter with them, to defend their names to others and to babysit their kids.

I am a friend. Although many times I'm bad at deserving them, I have some amazing friends. As a friend, it is my job always to be there if you need to talk, laugh, cry, curse, sleep or hug. It is my job to be honest with you, about the positive and negative. It is also my job to let you be the same for me. My most treasured friends are the ones who love me enough to tell me when I am wrong. Like I said, I don't really deserve these friendships, but since I am blessed enough to have them, I strive to be as good a friend to you as you are to me.

I am a musician. God gave me talent. I am not afraid to admit that. He gave me the ability to sing and play piano. I was not given talent to squander. I was purposed to cultivate it, to discipline myself and to use it all for His glory. My music is to be for no audience but Him. As such, I strive to be the best musician I can, because I am playing for the King of Kings.

I am a person. This may sound arbitrary, seeing as how we are all people. That is exactly my point. No two people are exactly the same, so stop trying to imitate someone else and try creating someone you. I have a responsibility to myself to be true to myself. It would be an insult to my unique character if I were to emulate another unique character. I am me.

Whatever you are and whatever you do, be purposeful. Leave nothing half-fulfilled. If you're going to do something, do it really, really well.

Love, Shelley.

c'est pour vous

If you see something you don't understand, how do you respond? Do you a) let it go and accept that you are not meant to understand it (negative capability), b) make a concerted effort to understand it (self-improvement), or c) presume that because you can't understand it, you are better than it (arrogance)? The first is my preferred option, the second is very common and perfectly acceptable, the third is dangerous, shameful, and all too common. I am of the mindset that if something is unclear to me (especially when it does not directly apply to me), it is not meant to weigh down my mind. I know many, many people (including my vastly intelligent mother) who fixate upon learning and understanding everything. I am of the opinion that this is unnecessary, but my brain is wired differently than most. This activity works for many people, and they are the more intelligent for it. Unfortunately, still others prefer to "rise above" what they don't understand and deride it in order to make themselves feel superior. I feel that this is a sad and sometimes hurtful attempt to hide personal insecurities.

Ignorance can be fruitful, and it can also be dangerous. Arrogance is never fruitful, and is always dangerous. I prefer to err on the side of caution and shy away from foreboding absolutes.

Peace and love, Shelley.