1. More of Tennessee! Being stranded without internet for a week gave me time to write about 6000 words of my novel. Bad news- It won’t be up for a bit because I want to do some editing/re-evaluation of Rose and the crew.

2. More songs! I went on a bit of a song-writing spree a week or two ago.

3. The College Process series! In true Frei For All style, I’ll (possibly) be starting another useless series of posts documenting my college application process. Common App is up already. Nyeh.

Also, why yes, there’s a new theme. It’s a bit less…spotty and a bit more calming.

Finally, take a glance at the little white button with a star on it just below this post. (Yes, you’ll have to look at the post instead of the main page to read.) That’s right folks, you can express your love for the blog to me AND give me free advertising by clicking the button and spreading Frei For All to your Facebook newsfeed! Ooh. Ahh.

Everything they said is driving me crazy, I don’t know what to do
All the words, all the lies that they prophesy did you know it’s about you?
After it all blends together, smooth like good weather, there’s no unencumbered truth
Distracting me from the books with a word or a look
Really how long is this gonna take
Why don’t you just break the ice to water ’cause lemons make lemonade
And standing under an umbrella in the rain with me
While it rains cats and dogs and they follow me
Barking and scratching and trying to make me see
That life’s insanity
Keeping up a melody
Burning me like fire, got me caught up in desire
Pathological liars telling me how to be liberated
Rights become wrong and the truth’s overrated
And a new chapter’s started
Turn a page to a maze and the results leave me me amazed
Hearts turned into question marks and a sharpie makes it permanent
On an army jacket made of office supplies
Got me hypnotized
And I’m being pursued for a poloroid
Then I fell but was it for the boy?
Last chance for a dance but it’s over too fast
Missed an opportunity, what happens next
Does it end in a wreck
Stay tuned for an epilogue.

I don’t need
You here
Anymore
I don’t need
To hear
Your lies no more
All I want I have
I’m happy on my own
I’m doing fine
Better than before
Before you left me

I don’t need
the time
you wouldn’t give me
I don’t need
the life
I didn’t have with you
There’s better people out there
Better than you
Whose hearts are true
I didn’t know what I was missing
Before you left me

Or rather i should say
Before you freed me
From your own damn chains

I need
what you
couldn’t give me
I need
someone
who is here for me
you gotta give respect to get it
you don’t understand
it’s not hard to comprehend
I’m stronger than I was
Before you left me

I’m so sick of this little town
Tired of tractors slowin’ me down
I pass a fruit stand on the corner
Now entering, now leaving downtown
And I know that something just isn’t right
It always keeps me awake at night
A single visit so long ago
Where I lost the past, found who I am
where my dreams began

Back to california
Back to the place that is my own
Back to california
Back to where I belong
Back to where I belong

I’ll just bring my guitar
And a suitcase full of my dreams
It’s crazy, I’m throwing all I know away
But intuition’s never been wrong before
I think that I will run away
Got a chance to make my great escape
the life I know, I’m gonna leave it behind
I don’t want a chance at a normal life
Gotta make it now cause this one’s mine
My flight departs at 7:14

Back to california
Back to the place I call my home
Back to california
Back to where i belong
Back to where I belong

[SCAT! ]

Back to California [etc.]

The end.

It’s safe to say I love my sport. I love the feeling of flying over a three foot fence on the back of a half ton animal. I love the smell of barns. It’s warm and inviting. I’m 17 and my left knee is totally busted up. Why? Because you get on a horse by putting your left foot in the stirrup and pulling yourself up. And riding is worth the god awful grinding noise my knee makes.

I love the connection between horse and rider. It’s like avatar, where they have that whassi’cal’d connection with the creature. But riding horses is way better than that because no hair engulfed tentacle is necessary.

For instance, take driving a car. It’s a machine. You screw up and you end up in a ditch/inside another car. Riding is slightly more idiot proofed. You forget to turn when you’re headed straight for a fence and the horse turns.

Off topic there. Connection. Right. I love the feeling of working together as one. I’ve developed connections with some horses, and I can tell when the connection isn’t there. We feed off each other. If I’m nervous, the horse picks up on it. If the horse is nervous or something’s off, I know.

Ah, happy thoughts.

We got out of the car and jogged to the door through the rain. Mom rang the bell and immediately Blue, my grandparents’ shih tzu began barking excitedly. Blue was one of the few non-farm dogs ever to arrive at the shelter he was adopted from. Renée came to open the door, and Blue rushed out to greet me. He bounced up and down around my feet and the white and grey shih tzu finally calmed himself enough to sit up on his hind legs and look at me expectantly. I picked up the gleeful little dog as Renée greeted us.

“Mary! Rose! Oh it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Rose you’ve grown so much! I swear you were a foot shorter the last time I saw you.”

Who would’ve thought. I’d grown four inches since I started high school and last saw Renée, but still measured in at a whopping 5’ 3’’. I put on a smile, “Yeah it’s been a while hasn’t it.”
“It looks like Mr. Blue remembers you though.”

The dog’s name is Blue, but Renée just has to call him Mr. Blue. It’s very strange in my opinion, and I don’t think she should go around renaming other people’s dogs. “He sure does.” We walked into the living room where Grandma Ana and Grandpa Jim were watching TV.

Mom started, “Oh Mom, Dad! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you both! I’ve missed you so much!”

What a load of crap. My mother couldn’t wait to get back to Silverburg, if getting her flight at 7:35 AM was any indicator; she’d have to leave at 4:30 in the morning. She couldn’t go a day without complaining about having to pay for Renée to take care of her parents. Not like we couldn’t afford it. But sending me away for a while and not having to pay was the perfect solution in her eyes. My mother hugged each of her parents in turn, who had just gotten up from the couch in the living room at the entrance of the house.

“Rose,” Grandma Ana said, “I’m so excited you’re going to be here the whole summer. We hardly get to see you anymore, right Grandpa?”

“Oh yes, Rose,” he said, “It’ll be so nice to spend time with you.”

I wasn’t heartless, I was going to like seeing my grandparents, but the whole summer was a bit excessive. “I’ve missed you both so much.” That was truth. The last time I had seen them was at Christmas two years ago, when Dad thought Mom would like seeing her parents for Christmas and drove them to Silverburg. Mom was surprised alright, but not how Dad intended.
After all of the greetings were finished, we all went to the table for dinner. Renée had made homemade lasagna, which was really quite good. Overall the meal was quite enjoyable, save my mother’s clenching of the table every time she felt her phone vibrate. She wouldn’t ever dare to turn the almighty phone off. She rocketed away from the table as I helped Renée clean up the dishes. Then Renée had to help me bring in my two suitcases as my mother was on the phone for a solid hour. Renée showed me my room, which I vaguely remembered staying in long ago. Over the past few weeks we had started mailing some more clothes and other items here that wouldn’t fit on the plane. The first of the packages was waiting in the room, which was also my most anticipated. I quickly opened it to find my small practice amp, which only had a six inch speaker, along with my distortion pedal, a capo, a guitar stand, and a mass of cables. Of course, I had no strings. Maybe I could go all summer without breaking one, but I tended to break them a lot.

My first priority or course was Gloria, and I removed her from her imprisonment in the case and gently placed her on the stand. Next I started unpacking some of my clothes and began putting them in the drawers of the dresser. As for shoes, I only had the Sperry’s on my feet. I had put several pairs of other shoes in another package which would arrive shortly. In addition, I had included pillows, posters, and any other atmospheric enhancements I could think of in package number three. A final fourth package contained more clothes.

I of course had my other priorities. I sacrificed several shirts in order to nestle my iPod speakers in the suitcase. With my music, I could escape anything. I took my laptop from its case and laid it on the dresser; I’d have to survive without a desk. My next project would have to be moving some of the furniture to make it seem more like home, if anything could be done. I would’ve started right then if Renée hadn’t called me to give me a general guide of all that needed to be done around the house.

Or so I thought.

I started listening to the lyrics of some of today’s songs, specifically rap.  I listen to them as a joke.  Take Carryout for example. Timbaland and Justin Timberlake spend a near four minutes comparing a girl’s body to carryout food. But today’s post focuses on a song I find particularly amusing. My Chick Bad. I thought I’d do a lyrical analysis to note this example of rap-related nonsensity.

My, chick bad, my chick hood
My chick do stuff that yo’ chick wish she could

Okay.  Sounds like Ludacris is comparing cars or something but I’ll go with it.

All white top, all white belt and all white jeans
Body lookin’ like milk

Wait what?!  Because it’s every woman’s dream to be compared to milk.

Comin’ out swingin’ like Tiger Woods’ wife

Pfah that line’s actually pretty good.  However I’ll refrain from going through the rest of the second verse.  You can look up the lyrics if you want to know that badly.

Trash talk to ‘em, then I put ‘em in a Hefty!

Okay, this line’s pretty good too.

The mental asylum lookin’ for me

This doesn’t surprise me at all.

My, my chick bad, better, better than yours

My, my chick bad, better, better than yours

My, my chick bad, better, better than yours

My, my chick bad, better, better than yours

OKAY I GET IT ALREADY.

And when we all alone I might just tip her
She slides down da pole like a certified stripper

Err… I wasn’t aware you needed a certification to be a stripper.  I suppose this is an attempt to end the song on some kind of note… No, I have no idea what the point is actually.

And that (w)raps it up. Pun intended.

]]> http://freiforall.wordpress.com/2010/05/02/my-rap-bad/feed/ 0 freiforall http://freiforall.wordpress.com/2010/03/21/tennessee-chapter-2-part-1/ http://freiforall.wordpress.com/2010/03/21/tennessee-chapter-2-part-1/#comments Sun, 21 Mar 2010 23:05:20 +0000 Frei http://freiforall.wordpress.com/?p=279 ]]> “Rose, please, keep up.  We’re going to miss the flight,” said my mother, taking a second out from her phone call.  We were nearly at a run down the airport to the terminal, and quite honestly, if there was an Olympic medal for speed walking in heels, my mother would have to win.  Even in my flats I couldn’t keep up thanks to my backpack, huge suitcase in one hand, and the clumsy shape of my guitar case in the other.  But I had gotten better at maneuvering crowded airport passageways, as the dozen “FRAGILE” stickers suggested on the case suggested.  My guitars certainly had racked up a lot of Frequent Flyer miles over the years, this being Gloria’s third adventure.

I was nearly exhausted by the time we got the luggage check-in, watched as my luggage was flung onto the conveyor belt, and cringed as they were just as careful with Gloria.  Now I was much swifter without Gloria, and managed to keep up with my mother until we boarded the plane.  Once aboard, I drowned out the drone of the attendant’s voice with my iPod, and finally reached a level of serenity as my mother was forced to turn off her cell phone.   She drummed her fingers impatiently on the armrest as I drowned out the world with the sounds of thrashing guitars and drums.  Only then did it hit me that I was going to be gone the entire summer, far away from my friends I loved so much, with nothing to live for but lunch at noon and dinner at six.  Day after day, week after week.  Ally and Ellen would be headed to the beach, even though they didn’t want to go without me. And Jake, although not going anywhere, would spend his summer at the guitar shop, which I would love to do.  But no, I would be completely and totally alone.  Once again I found myself holding back tears as the plane lifted off to leave home.

I must’ve fallen asleep during the flight as it only seemed like it was a few minutes.  Before long I was in a rental car headed even farther south-west .  The heat of the place was overwhelming; even with the air conditioning blasting I was still sweating in the relentless heat.  And to think this was only the beginning of June and the heat would only get worse.

Then something happened that hadn’t since the start of the trip, my mother got off the phone!    She started talking to me, “Rose I know you don’t want to do this but a change of scenery really will be good for you.”

“No.”

“Listen, it’ll be good for you to see your grandparents.  And at the end of the summer when you come back we’ll find a new aid for them.  I’m glad Renée got that job in the hospital in Nashville but it’s going to be a while to find another aid as good as her.”

I sat in silence.  I really wasn’t in the mood to even think about the rest of the summer.

“Really Rose, just try to make the best of it.  Being away from your crazy friends for a bit really would be good for you.” Crazy friends?  It showed that she had never met Ally.   Her phone began ringing, “Oh, I have to get that.”

This is how it always was.  Even when my mother tried to spend time with me or talk to me, she was still prisoner to the almighty phone.  She’d become trained to jump whenever it rang.  It was a reflex.  She never did get off the phone until we entered the tiny, miniscule town of Middleton, where she had grown up and I would waste the next two months.  In the last half hour the sky had grown dark and rain began to fall.  How appropriate .  The humidity was unbearable.  Mom slowed down as we turned onto Main Street.

“Do you see that restaurant, Rose?  La Poca Italia.  Grandma, Grandpa and I would go there to eat all the time when I was a kid.  And look, Rose, there’s a guitar shop.  I’m sure you’ll be in there a lot.”

I looked at the place my mother pointed at.  A blue sign with plain white lettering simply stated the name of the place: Main Street Guitars.  The front window was occupied by an assortment of folk instruments including a steel guitar and several banjos, as well as a standard bass.  Oh wait, there it was.  A single acoustic guitar hid amongst the assortment of redneck novelties.  It looked like no one had changed anything in the front for ten years.  Just then I remembered that I left the extra strings Jake had given me at home on my desk.  Crap.  My thoughts were interrupted by more of mom’s commentary.

“Oh look, Rose.  That  Co-Op has been here since I was a kid.  The bike store is new though.  There’s another guitar store!   You won’t have to worry about not being able to get anything around here.”

I was a bit scared of the taste in music of Middleton when I looked up to the other shop, thinking maybe I could survive around here.  It was similar to Strum and Pick from the outside.  There was no sign above it, but the store was most definitely open, as I judged from the lighting.  I strained to see past the glare on the glass in the front but could make out a few electric guitars and basses in the front and some drums toward the back of the store.  A little farther down the street we passed a diner that looked like it belonged in the fifties, however still looked brand new.

“Now that didn’t used to be here,” my mother started, “They must have replaced the old drugstore.  My friends and I used to go to the soda fountain there all the time.  Everyone from Middleton High seemed to always be there.  Shame to see it gone.”

The final shop we passed was a small café.  I’d probably be in there quite a bit, as I was drawn to the “Wi-Fi Here” sign.    There were a few tables outside and a “Coffee of the Day” sign standing in front of the door next to a large flower pot.  The place, called Sashay I soon saw, was definitely a place I’d be heading to.

My mother’s attitude didn’t have me feeling any better about the little town, and it was hardly a mile past the main shops before we turned onto Grandma Ana and Grandpa Jim’s road, Off Main Street.  How creative.  Another half mile past a few farms and we turned into the driveway of the small ranch.  It didn’t stand out in any way, and was at least fifty years old.  My grandparents used to own the farmland behind them until Mom decided to go to law school.  She didn’t want to be a farmer and the sale of the land paid for it.  A step led up to the narrow covered porch that ran across the house, bordered by a rickety railing.  A few flowers were planted along the porch between it and the short sidewalk.  A large oak that was at least a hundred years old stood in the front yard.  The bland, average appearance of the house was a perfect parallel to my summer.

“Well even if he does dump me I’m not going to be at a show at least.”

“Still, be careful.”  I had taken up a bit of a motherly role to Kayla, since our mother was always at work, or on the phone, or somewhere.  Like now.  Mom decided she had to stop in at the office this morning, and Dad went golfing, starting his vacation from the kids early I suppose, so I had to take Kayla to the barn and say the last goodbyes.  All the Be Careful! and Don’t-Forget-To-Call-Me! fell on my shoulders, and because of it, my thirteen-year-old sister and I were incredibly close. “Did you remember everything?”

“Definitely, I checked all my stuff twice.”

“Your phone?”

“Yeah I’ve got it.” She patted her pocket, but nothing was there. “Oh no! Where is it?  Oh my gosh, did I leave it at home?” Kayla never went anywhere without forgetting something.

“Lucky you, I grabbed this off the counter on our way out this morning.  Now you wouldn’t have been the only distraught one if you’d forgotten this.  You know that right?”

“Definitely.  I really hope I didn’t forget anything else major.”

“I don’t think so, but what about everything for General?”

“I went through the trailer yesterday, everything’s there.”

We both paused for a moment.

“We’re going to be so far away from each other, and for so long.  I don’t know if I can take it.” I started.

“I’ll call you whenever I can, you know that.”

I tried to stop myself from tearing up.  After the last few months, I’d had pretty good practice with holding back emotions.  “You need to have fun okay?  And hopefully General will enjoy it too.”

“I’ll try.  I don’t know about him though… Rose, I’ll miss you so much.”

“Me too…”

“Let’s go!” Ann called from the truck, “We’re gonna hit traffic if we don’t leave soon, and General won’t stand in the trailer longer than he needs to.”  She turned the key and the engine roared to life.  I heard a loud whinny from the trailer.

“I’m coming!” Kayla smiled up at me and got into the truck and closed the door.  She began waving from the passenger seat.  I leaned back against my car and waved back.  The truck and trailer slowly made their way down the driveway, and turned right.  Kayla waved again until I couldn’t see her anymore.  I forced a smile as I gave a final wave back.
I got in my car and decided to stop by Strum and Pick on my way home, since it was right on the way.  I made the realization again that this was the last time I’d get to see Jake.  I cringed at the thought.  Ranting about a song over the phone could never match meeting him and having a guitar circle as we would call our impromptu jam sessions.  It wasn’t much of a circle though, just the two of us for a while after school in the band room or at Strum and Pick.

When I got to the store and walked in, I was greeted by the familiar stale smell of new guitar cases and a couple people playing guitars in the background.  Jake stood at the counter restringing an acoustic.  Behind him, the entire wall was covered by two rows of electrics, and on the other side of the store acoustics.  Jake claims that he’s played all of them.  It really makes me wonder how much work he actually does, or if he just spends the whole time playing around on guitars he doesn’t own.  It must be fun getting paid for playing.

I heard Jake curse under his breath as I walked over to the counter, “Oh, hi Rose.  Gah, I hate when this happens.  Almost every time I restring an acoustic, at least one bridge pin breaks and or gets lost.  I’m lucky I still get paid with the damage I’ve done.  Do you see the one I just dropped?”

I picked one of his dreaded pins off the floor, “Is this it?”

“Yeah thanks.” He immediately set it in a dish next to the guitar with the other five pins. “So when are you headed out?”

“Monday, 10:45 AM out of Newark.  Direct flight to hick-town.”

“Don’t disrespect Nashville like that.  I know you hate the entire state, but you could at least give it some respect,”  Jake had family in Knoxville, in east Tennessee.  He was rather fond of the place, which I totally did not understand in the least.  “Actually I’m quite jealous.  So I guess that leaves me stuck… Uh… here. In this place.”

“Nice one, Captain Comeback.  So, did you decide to make me pay for the strings?”

“Oh wait right.  Here they are.” He pulled two sets of strings out from under the counter. “I really don’t know how you play extra lights.  They’re so thin.  Whenever I use them they break.”

“Don’t disrespect my fingers like that.  I can’t help it that yours are twice the size of mine.  And that you tend to get a bit… violent when you play.”

“It’s called expression.  And big fingers are all the better for owning you at Guitar Hero.”

“Fine.  I’ll give you that one. Y’know, I’m gonna miss coming here.  I’m so used to just dropping in whenever I want and getting free stuff.  I might actually have to pay for something.  It’s a scary thought.”

“Well I make you pay for your guitars.”

“Yeah.  Only because you’d have to work a year to afford Gloria.”  Gloria was my beloved green electric  guitar, my favorite ever.  My parents bought her for my sixteenth birthday.  Go figure.  I was much more excited when I found her in a case in the trunk of my Mustang than when I was when I saw the car.

“Well… so?  I can play whatever guitar I want, whenever I want.  I just can’t leave the store with it.”

“Oh whatever.”  I sighed, “I guess I’d better head home and finish packing for my doom trip.”

“Good idea.  Just don’t forget the strings.”

“I won’t.”  I stepped around the counter to give him a final hug.  “Have fun with that acoustic anyway.”

“Of course I will.  It hates me too.  I can just feel it.”

For someone who claims to listen to country, and love the state home to Nashville, Jake was terribly cold to acoustics. I’ll call you as soon as I get in Monday, kay?”

“Just don’t do too much writing without me.  Or find someone else who you’d let listen to a song first.”

“Don’t worry I won’t.  I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.”  Jake smiled.

I headed toward the door, strings in hand.

“Call me whenever you want, Rose.”

“Don’t worry, you know I will.”

If you already know the gist of the iPad and want to read my oh-so-valuable opinion, just skip this next paragraph.

The long dreamed about piece of technology has finally arrived. Although lacking a full OS, the iPad has many commendable features above and beyond the iPhone; the most noticeable being the 9.7″ LED Multi-Touch interface aka a touch screen. Also, the iPad (for an extra $120) boasts 3G capability so that now non-iPhone Apple users can enjoy the internet. Over 140,000 apps have been completely redesigned and optimized for the iPad’s large new screen. Battery life is 10 hours even with Wi-Fi or 3G enabled, which is rather impressive compared to the iPhone or iTouch. The 16-GB non-3G model starts at $500, making it’s way up to $829 for a 64-GB 3G enabled model.

Now that you’ve heard the objective stuff, it’s time for my take on the iPad.

I give it a 8/10, mostly because of the lack of a full OS, although I won’t complain too much because a full OS would probably mean an upward leap in the already hefty price.  If I do decide to make a trip to the local Apple Store, I think I’ll go for a 32GB 3G model.  Also, non-contract $14.95 monthly for 3G isn’t bad for the occasional times I’ll need it.  Anyway, why do I need an overpriced 64GB model?  Am I really going to walk around listening to my music while carrying around this behemoth?  And how exactly do I listen to my music while driving without risking my windshield if I need to stop?  Rather, where in my car would this even fit?  I’ll stick to my iPod in that case. Past the music issue, I rent movies.  I do not buy them.  $2.99 vs $14.99.  We have a clear winner.

Appearance-wise, we have a winner, although the iPad is a little bit on the obese side for my taste, being over .5″ thick.  I’ll definitely be investing in a keyboard dock if I do decide to splurge on one of these guys because the on-screen keyboard is just awkward.  But like anything, I can learn to adapt.  I wholeheartedly approve of the size of the iPad, which is comparable to a netbook.  My only concern is getting the screen scratched up, but I’m guessing that some nice cases will be out soon.  I also approve of the brushed metal back, as opposed to my mirror-like iPod Touch, that is not mirror-like any longer.

Like I said before, the quasi-iPhone format is a bit of a downer, however the size of the screen and updated quality of the apps makes things a little better.  I’m really hoping that in a future update, Apple will allow iPad users to run multiple apps.  You hear that Apple? I want Safari AND AIM.

Even with all the complaining I’ve done, I’m pleased with the iPad. Now I just have to find $729 laying around…

Want more Apple news? Check out Byte Size brought to you by Frei For All.