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?