Hail State

Davis Wade Stadium

UPDATE: As of 1:00, MSU is number one in the AP Poll!

The College Football Nation is exploding with support for Mississippi State, and I must say, it’s such a great experience to be a part of.

In less than an hour, the Associated Press will release their rankings for the week, and Bulldog fans everywhere are dreaming of seeing their team’s name in the number one spot.

If that happens, everything is about to explode. 

I haven’t been a Mississippi State fan my whole life.  I wasn’t raised on maroon and white, I didn’t ring a cowbell as soon as I was born, I didn’t even know how the fight song went until I showed up to band camp last year.

But in one short year, I have become a maroon and white wearing, cowbell ringing, Bulldog loving Mississippi State fan.  It really has been a perfect fit for me.  Out of all of the Mississippi schools, MSU has always been the one I associate with the best; it’s everything I love about Mississippi. 

I love the town of Starkville and the small town feel it gives me.  Because let’s be honest, it’s relatively small for a Division I college town, but I’m okay with that.  I love how I don’t have to drive far to see the fields and cows and cotton and gorgeous scenery that is Mississippi.  I love how Mississippi State is full of real people, from the Mississippi-bred rednecks to the out-of-state Texans.

Mississippi State will always be great to me regardless of what any sports team accomplishes.  However, it’s pretty great when they do spectacular things.

In the stands at the Auburn game

I've never gone to a school with a down-right spectacular football team.  Upon coming to MSU, I had accepted that we’d be at least pretty good, because in the SEC you’ve pretty much got to be or you’re the laughing stock of the nation.  I’ll tell it to you straight: when I’ve watched big bowl games on tv, I’ve always seen the band and wondered what it’d be like to be there, but I never actually expected to have a chance to actually see what it’s like.  My thought process: “I’m not going to Alabama, so it’s not per say expected.”

But if there’s one thing that this football season has taught me, it’s never let the past success of an opposing team bias the support for your own team.  

Coming into the MSU vs. LSU game, I didn’t expect us to pull out the win that we did.  Because I thought, “LSU has been super good as long as I’ve kept up with college football, and they beat us every year.”  It’s not that I didn’t have faith in the Bulldogs, it’s just that I was trying to be realistic.

But forget being realistic.  Forget assumptions.  As soon as the Bulldogs came out swinging in the first quarter, I stopped doubting them.  I stopped assuming LSU would be the same LSU as always.

On the sidelines before halftime, playing in the rain (note the wet chicken-like appearance of our plumes)

And so now my attitude before every game is, “if we come out swinging, if we play all four quarters, then they can’t stop us.”

There has been a lot of “ifs” this year, and so far we’ve conquered all of them.  But there’s still a lot of “ifs” left before we make it to whatever bowl we end up at, before the season comes to a close.  Can I just say I wouldn’t mind at all if I got to go to the Rose Bowl?  March in the Rose Parade?  Uh, yes. 

It’s been a crazy season this year, but I can see that Dan Mullen and the Bulldogs are taking it all one “if” at a time.  Conquer one and celebrate, but right after brace yourself, because another one is coming. 

I’m so honored to be a part of this history-making year.  I absolutely love the awesome opportunities that I get as a part of the Famous Maroon Band.  Watch the game from the sidelines?  Been there, done that. 

Pre-Pre-game selfie with the GoPro

If you know me, then you know what a sentimental person I am, and you know how much once-in-a-lifetime opportunities mean to me.  That’s what this year has been so far; it’s been full of things I may never get to experience again.  I may never get to see College Game Day live again in my life.  Am I super bitter that I forgot to set a 5:00 AM alarm and missed the chance to get a great seat and possibly a hard hat?  So very much.  But all in all, what a day yesterday was.  From College Game Day just being there, to the Game Day Snapchat, to Corso picking the Bulldogs to win, to a sold-out stadium, to a spectacular first quarter, to the monsoon right before halftime, to the nail-biting mistakes, to the miraculous plays, and finally, to the final score, I’ll never forget it.

Game Day Snapchat

I believe that if this Bulldog team keeps showing up to games, then they’ll go far, and I very well could be sitting in the stands at one of the top bowl games come late December/early January. 

I hope that all of the remaining games are just as great of an experience as the others.  I hope that the student section continues to stay for the entire game, I hope that security is always in fear of the crows storming the field. 

Because, man, what memories.

College Game Day bus

I love Mississippi State, and I couldn’t have picked a college with a better atmosphere, both on a daily basis and come game day.

So Hail dear ‘ole State.  Starkville is saying it, Mississippi is saying it, and pretty soon the entire nation will be saying it. 

Can you hear that?  I think I hear the bandwagon coming.  Hop on, everyone, it’s about to be a great ride.

Mo

College Game Day

A Sentimental Post

Hey people, it’s been a while.

I apologize if you’ve missed me. 

You know how life just happens sometimes, and there are so many things that you want to do, but you never get around to doing them?  Or how they always get put on the back burner?  Well, anyways, it’s not time for making excuses.

One of the things I struggle the most with in life is change.  I really can’t believe I’m really about to sit and type out the words that describe the whole experience for me, but here I am, and I’ll most likely share some things.  So lucky you.

I’ve been meaning to sit down and write another blog post, and every time I think about it, I ask myself, “well, what do you want to blog about?”

I was on my old laptop a month or so ago, and so I got to see the pictures that I have as the slideshow for my desktop background.  I was finishing up the quiz things that I had to take for the Study Abroad Office for me to go with the wind ensemble to Italy, and I got done and exited out of all of the programs I had up, preparing to shut down my computer, hop in the shower, and head to bed.

But then I saw the picture that was my background at that moment.

It was a picture of me and my four best friends from high school, four amazing ladies that I’ve been through more with than I can honestly remember.  It was the day before graduation, and we had met up at my house to take pictures together in our caps and gowns.

I sat there and looked at the picture, and I thought, “that’s us, we’re those girls, but that’s not who we are anymore.”  In that moment, I thought about how different we all are from that day, and it hasn’t even been a year since that picture was taken.  There are differences that I love, and there are differences that I’m still adjusting to, or at least don’t particularly like.

Like how during high school I got so used to seeing them every day for a large part of the day, and then I got to college and that stopped.  It was a weird adjustment, because it was just something I had accepted as the norm, and I took it for granted.

The first few months of college was a struggle for me as I battled with myself, constantly having to remind myself that this wasn’t high school.  Things were different, and I had to get used to new surroundings and new people, and eventually I did.  I have a group of friends from college that I spent so much time with between band and just hanging out, and now my norm is seeing them every day.  So now that summer’s here, I’ve got yet another adjustment to make.  But I’ll be fine.  I’m looking forward to catching up with old friends.

But anyways, I wanted to elaborate more on the line “that’s us, we’re those girls, but that’s not who we are anymore.”  At the time that picture was taken, we were five nearly high school graduates, practically babies in the grand scheme of things. 

I was in an awkward spot in my life.  For the first time in years, I wasn’t having to stress over my grades.  I was Valedictorian, it was official, and the time-consuming activity that had literally consumed me for the past four years was gone.  It felt like a ginormous weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, which is relieving, but it also felt strange, almost empty.  I had been reaching for and grasping at Valedictorian for so long that it felt weird to not be thinking about the next test I needed to ace.

So there was that awkward weight-lifted-go-to-activity-ripped-away feeling, and I was also stressed and confused over strained relationships with some special friends.

We all five were worn out from a busy four years, but we were excited for college at the same time. 

I really didn’t know what was going to happen next, and I don’t think most high school graduates ever do.  All I knew was that the five of us were going to three different colleges, with me and two of them going to the same one.

I didn't even know for sure if I would still be friends with all four of them at that time the next year.  I’m so glad to say that I am. 

We all grew up so much in our first year of college.  I watched the two friends at college with me grow into even better people and even stronger Christians.  Watching them grow has been such a blessing to me.  It’s been so great for the three of us to have this renewed friendship, one where we’re less stupid, less bitter, and more empathetic and supportive.  We’ve seen what idiots and jerks we were to each other in high school, and we’re bigger people now. I don’t claim to be perfect, and I’m sure neither do they, but we’re getting better, and it probably helps that we’re finally getting all our hormones somewhat under control.

We've all five made plans for the future, and we're working to get there.  We're more aware of our surroundings and the implications of our actions.

And I personally cherish even more than ever before the old friendships I have, the ones I’ve had for years, the ones that I still have today.  At college, I’ve heard the stories of so many people who felt alone in high school, alienated and friendless.  I’ve heard how college has been so fantastic for them as for the first time in forever there are people that appreciate them and connect with them.

I didn't have that kind of experience in college because I didn’t come from a traumatic, friendless high school experience.  I had four friends who helped me through all of my tough times and celebrated with me in all of my happy ones.  They knew me, they understood how weird and emotional and paranoid I can be, and they loved me anyways, and they still do.  I’ve got new friends in college, and they’re all so fantastic, but I’ll always be thankful for those four girls and what they’ve done for me.

And no matter the distance, I’ll make the effort to stay friends.  Because I know at the end of the day, I can call them with a problem, and they’ll always pick up the phone.

So the five of us are and aren’t the girls in that graduation picture.  We’ve moved on, we’ve grown out of that stage in our lives, and I’m glad we did.

So many things have changed for me in a year, including my relationship with each of them, but I’m glad one that thing hasn’t changed, and that’s the fact that I have a relationship with each of them.

So there’s one sentimental post for you.  I’m going to try my hardest to get back in a regular blogging swing.

I leave for Italy soon, so there’s that blog to look forward to.

Have a great day!

Mo

Summers in the Sun

So the beautiful weather that I was greeted with when I got back on campus Sunday has got me itching for summer.  My friend and I were talking the other day about how funny it is that it’s on the days that it’s super nice outside that we realize just how annoying the cold can be.  It seems like we get used to it being cold and just accept that that’s how the weather works.  But, the great part is, it doesn’t. 

I’ve always enjoyed summer, I mean, what kid doesn’t (very few, that’s who), but it was a few years ago that summer got even better for me.  My family got a pontoon boat.

I never knew what I had been missing in my life by not having a boat.  I didn’t know what it was like to spend weekends on the lake, taking it easy and living on the edge all at the same time.

For the past three summers, I got to see what it was like, and I quickly fell in love.  Arkabutla lake is my summer home (unless, of course, they drain all of the water out, in which case Enid lake is my summer home), and it’s just the best way to spend my summer weekends.

Not only has spending time on the boat allowed me to actually get a bit of a tan (yes! A tan! A tan for this super white girl!), it has given me countless laughs.

And weekends on the lake wouldn’t be complete without spending the entire weekend out in nature courtesy of the great American pastime known as camping.  Except ours is done in a manner which does not include sleeping on the ground or using the bathroom in a hole.  Campers are where it is at.

So anyways, story time with Morgan.

There was this one time that my sister decided that she was the yoga master, and that the most appropriate location to hold a yoga class was while tubing.  So we had both of our tubes going behind the boat, with my sister on the small tube and my cousin and brother sharing the big tube.

My sister would perform a yoga move, and my cousin and brother would subsequently copy it.  The moves evolved into more difficult positions…and more even more bizarre names…but nonetheless, it was enjoyable to watch from the boat.

But tubes weren’t made with yoga class in mind.  They were made to ride the wake and soar over the waters, and that’s exactly what me and my cousin do.  He and I are the professionals of our lake troupe. 

We hop on the small tube, with me up front and him sitting behind.  When we go over the wake and are on smooth waters, he lifts up the side of the tube and we sling shot out, going farther and farther from the wake.  We glide like ice skaters, except cooler, because, you know, it just is.

We hang on through waves and bumps that would knock of the amateur rider easily.  We hang on through things that I still wonder how we did it.  We’ll get like, three or four feet of air, and then land like nothing happened.  It’s super cool how we just manage to land and balance just right.  It’s because we’re pros.

Tubing is super fun when you get to ride with someone who’s experiencing it for the first time.

I was on the tube with my best friend, and she was freaking out because this whole ordeal was just so scary.  We’re waiting for my dad to start the boat, and I’m telling her how it’s going to be so much fun.

My dad starts the boat, and we start moving. 

And that’s when the squealing starts.

We hadn’t even gotten up to speed yet.  We hadn’t even made it into the wake yet.  We weren’t even close to the scary part.  This was going to be a long ride.

And we start actually going, and she keeps squealing.  “Good golly,” I’m thinking.  “I’m going to die!” She’s thinking.

I’m not lying when I say she squealed the entire time.  But hey, I put up with it because I love her.

Me and another one of my friends enjoy composing raps while we’re tubing.  Classic white girls.  For reals though, it’s quality material.  I’m pretty sure we both remember it to this day.

It was with that same friend and our siblings that I made a fantastic movie which took place at the campground.  It was a movie filled with conflict, comedy, and fear, but I’m not allowed to tell people about it apparently.  So, I’m sorry.

This past summer I took two other friends, and the game became to see who fell off of their tube first, after which they would be considered the loser of the round.  It was the competition to see who was the biggest loser, except you didn’t want to be the biggest loser.

We would hang on for dear life to the tube, refusing to fall off.  I’m pretty sure at one point I was literally hanging off of the side of the tube, but I pulled myself back on it.  We made some miraculous saves.  But we also had some spectacular wipeouts.

Seeing as we only got a boat a few years ago, the past few summers have been learning experiences for me and my siblings as we learn how to do all of the various water activities.

One thing that not one of us three has conquered yet is water skiing.

We've tried to figure it out, but our learning experiences have also been learning experiences for those helping us.

It was my brother's turn to attempt to learn to water ski, and he was still smaller at the time, so then men of the boating adventure got out a training ski rope.  My brother held on to one end, and the rope went through a training bar attached to the skis with another handle on the end for someone to hold.  

So two of them got on the jet ski.  Our lake buddy drove, and my friends' dad sat on the back, watching my brother and holding his rope.

From what I can tell, this is how training ski ropes work:  The person on the watercraft holding the other end of the rope is really the one in charge.  Even if the person on the skis lets go, the rope is still attached to his/her skis, and as long as the spotter is hanging on to his/her end, the "skiing" continues (because at that point it's not really skiing).

So there they are, all set and ready to go.  Our friend guns the jet ski, and they go for a few seconds, and my brother doesn't get up, so he lets go of his rope.  However, our friend holding the rope did not let go.  

Physics was not on his side as the jet ski kept moving forward and he started moving in the opposite direction, flipping right off of the back of the jet ski.

"Do it again, Daddy!" My friend screamed to him when he got back on the jet ski.

Of course that wasn't the plan as they set up to try again.  The plan was to teach my brother to ski.  But physics once again was the victor, and off he flipped again, earning him the name, "Flipper."

What an unsuccessful yet entertaining ski lesson.  Moral of the story: don't let Flipper hold the training rope.

Watching people learn to relearn to ski is always entertaining for all of us.  We'll get people out on the boat that haven't skied in probably ten or more years, but apparently it's like riding a bike.  Once you know how to do it, you know how to forever.

But then you get people like my poor granddad, who, as hard as they try to pop up never succeed.  My mom and dad popped up like they've been doing it their whole lives.

And when I try to ski, I just end up being dragged behind the boat getting a face full of water.  Oh well.  Maybe I'll finally figure it out this summer.

And of course there’s the camping stories.

One night my two friends were staying with my family in our camper, and it was probably around 9:00, and we were having a nice time in the camper when we decided we wanted some s’mores.  I mean, who wouldn’t want classic camping food?  So we gather up the chocolate and graham crackers and marshmallows and roasting sticks and head out to the fire that we started four hours ago that is still clinging to life.

We’re just about to start roasting when up walk two raccoons.  As much as those raccoons wanted to join our roasting, we of course had to follow the arbitrary camping survival guide handbook, which we all know states the following:

“Wildlife of any kind, including squirrels, raccoons, deer, birds, rhinoceroses, kangaroos, and snakes, are not to be considered dinner guests, and especially not late night s’more time guests.”

And who were we to ignore that rule?

My friends, who were quite terrified by the fuzzy little things, quickly ran inside.  My mother went inside only to re-emerge holding some pots and pans, and the only obvious thing to do with those was to beat them uncontrollably, no doubt waking up the slumbering wildlife and the elderly couple in the camper next door. 

But never mind the consequences of beating kitchenware in the woods, for the raccoons went away.

And I stood there with my marshmallow and roasting stick saying, “I just want a s’more,” to which my mother responded with the suggestion to use the microwave inside the safety of the camper for my s’more making procedure.

And, in hindsight, that was a good solution, because now I don’t need a fire to have s’mores.

But I am a pro-fess-ional fire builder, as you probably would have guessed.

Fire building with Morgan!

1)      Gather wood.  This includes twigs, branches, sticks, and large chunks of trees more commonly referred to as “logs.”

2)      Also gather things like newspaper and leaves.  And a lighter.  Because I ain’t no boy scout.

3)      Attempt to build a little tepee thing out of the sticks like you see in every survival movie as a child.

4)      Sit back and admire your crude little tepee (assuming you actually got one to stand).

5)      Realize you didn’t put any kindling inside the tepee.

6)      Dissemble and reassemble the tepee with kindling inside (hint: kindling is newspaper and/or leaves).

7)      Place larger pieces of wood around it.  You’ll probably end up moving it when you realize how you really should have set up the fire

8)      Take your lighter, and after countless failed attempts, make a fire, out of the lighter that is.

9)      Take the lit lighter and light the newspaper and/or leaves on fire.

10)   Watch the newspaper and/or leaves disappear before your eyes before realizing that the actual wood did not catch on fire.

11)   Realize you’re out of newspaper.

12)   Get more leaves to find you cannot, in any circumstances, get those suckers to light.

13)   Scrounge for kindling.  Find Kleenexes in the camper.

14)   Succeed in lighting the Kleenexes on fire, and eventually get the actual wood on fire too.

15)   FEED THE FIRE MORE WOOD

16)   Make up the rest as you go along

But let me just say that I’m getting better at the whole fire thing.  It takes some time, but I can successfully get one going all by myself, and that’s super cool to me.  My goal for this summer is to at least get a spark by rubbing some sticks together.  We’ll see how that goes.

My family has lots of encounters with raccoons at the campsite now.  It’s not unusual for a raccoon to meander up by the fire, but I’ve learned to just let him do his thing, and he usual just keeps on trucking.

One time, though, a raccoon got on the boat during the night and ransacked the boat, even chewing through the rope that connected the boat to the tubes (yum, rope).

I’ve had quite the handful of super enjoyable experiences throughout the last few summers.

But the story that always takes the cake comes from my first summer on the lake.  Me and two friends were piled on top of our smallest tube.  To this day I still don’t understand how we all three fit.  Like, seriously.  It’s the Chihuahua of tubes.  I think how it really went was two of us on the actual tube, and one laying on top, hanging on to anything she could get a good grip on (yes, this included people).  But anyways, we had discussed earlier how when you’re at the lake and the urge to go suddenly hits you, your only real choice is just to jump in, tell everyone to swim away from you, and go. 

We all three piled on the tube, ready to start our ride.  We ended up two on the bottom and one on top, hanging on for dear life.  We were waiting for my dad to start the boat when my friend on top said,

“I need to pee!”

I answered, “well, we’re about to start.  So you’ll have to hold it and go in the lake when we get done.”

“Too late.”

“Did you just pee on me?!?!”

“Yeah…”

At that point, there wasn’t really much I could do.  My best friend peed on me.  That’s cool.  To this day when we tell someone the story, they look at us like we’re crazy.  I’m sure they’re thinking, “You peed on her?  And it’s not embarrassing for you the two of you to tell, like, everyone?”

That thought did cross my mind the first time she told the story.  But then I realized, hey, the best stories and memories are the ones that you should be ashamed to share, but you totally own up to them.

And besides, plenty of people can say, “Me and my best friend went tubing the other day.”  Not that many people can say, “My best friend peed on me when we went tubing the other day.”

So life is so much cooler after I discovered the amazingness that is the lake, and I’m so ready to go back.

Mo

I'm Wicked Through and Through

It's been a while, and I apologize if you have missed my wit and utter awesomeness.

In other news, my blog has gotten over 1,000 views.  That's super cool, and it makes me really excited.  Thanks for being awesome, people.

And now for what I've got to say today.

So I don't know if it's possible to watch a DVD so much that it stops working, but I'm pretty sure that's what will happen to my copy if they ever make Wicked into a movie. 

Disclaimer: there's bound to be spoilers galore to the completely AMAZING play Wicked in this post, so if you don't want to see them, stop reading. 

If you're one of those people that doesn't like Wicked, I encourage you to keep reading, because I'm hoping I can change your mind. 

First of all, I'm just so ready for somebody to make it into a movie (preferably someone who knows what they're doing).  I know I'd see it no less than three times in the theater, I'd pre-order the DVD and be there first thing to pick it up, and I would watch my DVD no less than 1,000,000 times. That is, assuming the movie does the play justice. 

I've seen the play three times (once a year since 2012), and it never fails: every time it's over, I'm always ready to immediately see it again. 

I fell in love with Wicked the first time I heard Defying Gravity on my best friend's phone, and that love just grows every time I see it or listen to the soundtrack (which is quite a few times. Wicked has its own playlist on my Spotify).

I first saw Wicked on Broadway, and that just of course makes it so much cooler. I remember sitting there through the first Act, listening to Dr. Dillamond, and laughing at Elphaba and Glinda as they loathed each other, and wishing I could meet Fiyero and have him sing beautiful music to me. I remember watching Elphaba singing Defying Gravity, then seeing the curtains close and house lights come on as I sat there wondering, "what just went on." The second Act shook me up even more, and after the play my group walked down the streets of New York as I remained in shock thinking, "what just happened. Is this real life? Like, what?"

It intrigued me, and I loved it. 

I loved it so much that I convinced my parents to drive five and a half hours to St. Louis to see it again. We ended up taking a small posse of people. Wicked should be shared with the masses. 

And then, oh goodness, I found out that it was coming back to Memphis. I'm not really sure why I didn't see it the first two times it was there. I feel kind of dumb for being so obsessed with it and missing the first two showings in Memphis. Anywho, one day I found out Wicked was coming back to the Orpheum, and I about lost myself, "WICKED IS COMING BACK TO MEMPHIS."

My mom basically knew we would have to go see it. I mean, it would be here around my birthday, so why not?

And so it totally happened. I drove home from college on my birthday, bringing along my boyfriend and my roommate, to go see Wicked with about fifteen other friends and family members. It had already been a fantastic birthday, and seeing Wicked just made it about 5,000 times better. 

I mouthed the words to every song (I knew the folks around me would have rather heard the actors sing than me, so I was considerate), and I freaked out over the clarinet player.

Tears started forming in my eyes when Elphaba and Glinda sang my most favorite song on the planet, For Good.

And when it was over, after the cast had all taken a bow, and the curtains had closed, I wanted to stay there and watch the whole thing over again.

Like most books and movies, I always catch more each time I see the play.  This time I noticed small things that actually said a lot about the play, its characters, and the themes it develops.

And as I sat in the Orpheum noticing all the literary aspects of the play, I laughed at myself.  I would always joke with my high school English teachers about how they over-analyze everything, always looking for themes and foreshadowing and characterization and metaphors.  Yet there I was, doing exactly that.

However, I realized that it was the literary aspects of Wicked that make it so great, so deep and intriguing.  There’s such a greater meaning to every part of the play, and the way it all works together to not only develop the plot of the play but also relate it to the Wizard of Oz just makes me sit in awe of the writers.

First of all, I love the characterization.  I love how Elphaba is portrayed as not the Wicked Witch, but as a girl who just wanted to belong somewhere, who wanted someone to appreciate her and her quirkiness.  Sure, she does eventually embrace her “wickedness,” but it’s not out of spite.  It’s her way of proving to herself and all of Oz that she doesn't have to change to belong or be accepted; when she acts like herself and stands firm for what she believes, sure, some people won’t agree, but the ones that do, the ones that want to associate with her, will support her and accept her, and there’s nothing like that feeling of belonging.  The foreshadowing – both witty and serious – are super brilliant.  “But I swear someday there’ll be, a celebration throughout Oz, that’s all to do with me!”  In the context of the song (The Wizard and I), Elphaba means a good celebration – one where everyone will be happy, including her.  But if you’ve seen the play you’ll realize that the “celebration” she was talking about is actually the one that the people of Oz are having at the opening of the play – the one celebrating her death.  In the same song she sings, “I’d be so happy I could…melt!”  Did anyone catch that?  Melt?  HAHA.  There are plenty more reasons why Elphaba is just the best, besides the fact that she’s just as green as yours truly.  So green.

When you actually think about it, Glinda is actually a lot deeper of a character than most people probably give her credit for being.  At the surface, she’s a pompous, self-absorbed girly-girl, but she’s so much more than that.  Think about your comfort zone, the place, attitude, and people with whom you are the most comfortable.  Glinda’s comfort zone is being the center of attention, the one who everyone looks to for all the latest fads, the one who always seems to have it together.  Merely being friends with Elphaba forces Glinda to leave that comfort zone.  Elphaba isn’t exactly caught up in the latest trends, and so merely talking to Elphaba could easily be a blow to Glinda’s reputation, and she knew it.  But since the two were forced to room with each other, Glinda couldn’t just ignore Elphaba’s presence, no matter how much she wanted to.  I think the greatest thing, though, is that Glinda and Elphaba’s friendship begins in an ironic manner.  Glinda received a new hat, but to her dismay and those of her group of girlfriends, it wasn’t the prettiest of hats (in their opinion).  As a cruel joke of sorts, Glinda decided the best and easiest way to get rid of the hat would be to give it to Elphaba.  And so with the kindest of tones and fake intentions, Glinda gave Elphaba the hat, and Elphaba believed that “cheery disposition” to be genuine.  So Elphaba went to the head of the magic program and asked her to let Glinda into the program in addition to herself.  The head of the program tells Glinda that she is now in the program, also letting her know it was Elphaba’s idea.  Boy, does that have to shake up Glinda’s conscience. 

I think it’s in that moment, as she’s standing at the dance with her newly received magic wand, watching Elphaba awkwardly dance as the whole school stood there, watching her and judging her, that Glinda saw that something was wrong with her life.  While her comfort zone was just that, comforting, it wasn’t right.

That pang of guilt pushed her to go join Elphaba in her awkward dancing.

In that moment, Glinda left her comfort zone.  She left it for a girl she thought she loathed, yet had done such a nice thing for her after Glinda had been nothing but rude to her.  You have to appreciate this bold move on Glinda’s part.  She didn’t have a cold heart that had pushed her to be rude to Elphaba, she just did it because it kept her in her comfort zone, and that was all she had ever known.

We all have our comfort zones.  I know it takes a very special person or event to get me to leave mine.

Glinda continues to struggle with her comfort zone throughout the second act.  The Wizard offers her a powerful position in Oz that she’d always dream of, but she had to speak out against her best friend.  Her other option?  Fight on Elphaba's side.  But that meant leaving the exalted spotlight, embracing the life of an outcast, basically doing everything she had tried so hard to avoid her entire life.

She chose her comfort zone, the easier, but not necessarily less painful, choice.  Because you can sense her unhappiness as she sings “Thank Goodness.”  The song is dripping with irony, because as Glinda sings the words, “I couldn’t be happier,” you know she, in fact, could be happier.  She would love to have both her comfort zone and her best friend, but that just isn’t an option.  And so she’s not satisfied.  

But the thing I love is that by the end of the play, Glinda understands that in order to stand up for what you believe in, you many times have to leave your comfort zone.  No one forces someone to make that choice, but if and when they do, it speaks volumes about them and their character. 

You won’t always be applauded or celebrated, like Elphaba, but if you’re truly confident, you’ll be satisfied with yourself and your actions.

I think that’s the motivation Glinda had in telling the citizens of Oz the real, complete, untainted story of Elphaba.  She wanted the citizens of Oz to see the confident, supportive, wonderful woman that Elphaba had become, and that all she had done was truly remarkable.

I’ll be the first to argue with you that Glinda changed Elphaba’s life.  I mean, the whole Popular scene was a turning point for Elphaba.

But I’ll also argue that Elphaba changed Glinda’s life.  She showed her more about morals, goals, self-esteem, and confidence in a few short years than I think Glinda had learned her entire life before that.

Elphaba was always confident.  But Glinda, she was confident for all the wrong reasons, and Elphaba changed that.  It makes the song, “For Good,” just all that much better. 

Wow, I've said a lot.  I hope you enjoyed my…um…literary analysis of sorts of Wicked.  It’s just that I love the play so much, because every time I see it, it motivates me in so many ways, and it gives me hope for the world.  It makes me appreciate my best friends even more, those girls that really have changed me for good.  Those girls who taught me more about myself and life and just everything. 

I’m thankful for them and for everyone that has changed me for good.

So have a great day, and remember: Everyone deserves the chance to fly.

Mo

Peace Out 2013

It’s been a while since I've had a new blog post, but December was a busy month for me.  But here’s a new one now.  Hurray!

This being a brand spankin new year and all, this post is going to be my way to reflect on 2013 and say a few things about what would be nice to see happen in 2014.

The short story: 2013 was a year of milestones for me.  I mean, a lot happens in your senior year of high school between the whole ending grade school and starting college thing.

So obviously, a big part of 2013 was graduating from high school and having the best time ever at graduation.  You know those moments in life that were so much fun that you want to do again?  I would love to give my speech again.  That was so much fun, people.

There was just something about feeling like I had conquered my shyness.  When I was up on that stage giving my speech, the moment I had daydreamed about for at least four years straight, I felt confident, I felt euphoric, and I felt like I was such a boss.  Because, let’s be honest, I was.  And the feeling I got when I got to the point where everyone said, “thank you Mr. Brady,” with me?  Oh my goodness, people, that was so great.  I had been so paranoid that it wouldn't turn out right and everyone would forget or I wouldn't be clear with my cue, but it worked perfectly!  So a humongous thank you to everyone who helped with that.  You’re all awesome. 

Another big thing that happened for me was being named a National Merit Finalist.  For those of you that don’t know, being a National Merit Finalist is a big deal.  A huge deal, really.  It’s a forever long process that caused me so much stress I’m surprised my hair isn't gray.  First, I took the PSAT (a terrible, terrible test) in October of my sophomore year.  2010, for those keeping score.  Then me and thirty-odd students from my class that also took it got chosen to be in the PSAT class, a class aimed at increasing PSAT scores.  It lasted from spring of my sophomore year to October of my junior year.  The class had three teachers, each helping us with a different area of the PSAT (English, Critical Reading, and Math).  The class was the hardest one I had taken up to that point (oh, if only I had known what AP English had in store for me).  It had so much work and it just stressed me and everyone else out.  But you know what?  All that work paid off.  We all took the PSAT again in October of our junior year (2011).  This was the test that counted.  In December, we got our scores.  I scored the highest out of my PSAT class!  Then the next semester I got a letter saying I had scored high enough to be in consideration of being a National Merit Scholar.  Then, then, in September of my senior year (2012) I got a letter saying I was a National Merit Semi-Finalist (eep!!).  To be in the running for Finalist, I had an application to fill out.  It involved:

1)      Taking the SAT and not doing terrible on it

2)      Filling out some basic information about you

3)      Filling out a short resume

4)      Writing an essay based on the topic of a person or event that had a big influence on your life

The hardest part was the essay.  I mentioned this in a previous post, but I’ll say it again.  What the National Merit people basically want you to do it pour your soul into this essay and give it to complete strangers to read and decide if it’s good enough to let you into their club.  My friend who is a year older than me is a National Merit Finalist, and her essay was very personal.  She doesn't let many people read it.  But I couldn't think of anything as personal as hers.  I had ideas, and I would start to write an essay, but I never got anywhere.

In the back of my head I had an idea of what I should write about, but it was such a big thing to me that I didn't think I could do it justice.  I didn't think I could make complete strangers feel the emotion that it had for me.  I didn't feel like I could explain it right.  And really, I didn't want to let the person that’s involved in it down.

I was sitting at a football game, and my teacher and best friend’s mom (both the same person) came over to see the band.  Most people aren't allowed to just stand there with the band all up in our business during games, but she does what she wants, and she’s cool enough.  She was talking to me and my other best friend (who is also a Finalist and so was working on her essay) about our essays.  I told her how I couldn't think of anything that would be emotional and personal enough.  Then she looked at me and say, “You know what you need to write about.”  We both knew what she was talking about.  I told her how that was an idea, but I didn't think I could write it the right way.

I went home that night, after the game, so it was about 11:00, and wrote the first paragraph in fifteen minutes.  I wrote it pretty much how it appeared in my final essay.  It was the easiest experience I had ever had writing, and I know today that it was because it came straight from my heart.

You see, I didn't have to worry about writing the essay in a way that the National Merit would feel the emotion behind it.  Because I was so overwhelmed with my own connection to the topic, all the emotions I felt because of it, that the emotion practically dripped off of the pages.  There was no way I could have written this essay wrong because I cared too much about the topic to let that happen.

The day after I finished the essay, I took it to school to let my teacher read.  I told her something like, “you were right.  This is what I needed to write about.”  I asked her later about it, and she told me it was beautiful.  After being my Gifted English, PSAT, and AP English teacher, she had read a lot of my essays, and she had read a lot of other peoples’ essays, but I had never heard her call an essay, “beautiful.”

She took the essay to my other Gifted and AP English teacher (they teach alternating years, so I had had them both), who had never heard the story behind my essay.  She said even though she was an outsider to the situation, she completely understood it from what I said.  That made me so happy.

My best friend cried when she read it.  She asked for a copy of it.

I still cry sometimes when I go back and read it. 

So, long story short, I felt confident about becoming a National Merit Finalist after that essay, and in February of my senior year (2013), two years and four months after taking the PSAT for the first time, I got a letter congratulating me on becoming a National Merit Finalist.  Today, that title means so much to me because I know how hard I worked for it, and I know how much emotion was in that essay.  I really did pour my soul into it.  So yeah.  That was a big part of 2013.

Another great thing from 2013 was being named one of the Star Students of my senior class.  Me and this guy had tied for the highest ACT score in our class, so we both got to be Star Students and each got to pick a Star Teacher.  I picked my Gifted English-PSAT-AP English Teacher Best Friend’s Mom, obviously.  And may I say that our paragraphs about each other were both fantastic.  The student and teacher usually talk about each other, but we both said much more than anyone had in years past.  Part of that was because we have a lot to say in general, but the main part was because of how well we knew each other and how much we had both experienced.  She saw me grow up from a shy little kindergartener to a confident senior.  She saw me fight through all the hard classes, and she always offered to help me find the right answer.  She was more than an English teacher.  So that whole experience was super fun.  Plus our picture together in the yearbook is totally adorable.

I also went on some important trips in 2013!  I went on my first trip to Washington D.C.  Super fun experience.  I got that opportunity from being in a leadership group in my county, so I got to go with some great friends.  I learned a lot, saw a lot, did a lot, and had such a great time with them.  I also was in the Mississippi All-State Lion’s band (a huge honor and an even bigger deal) and got to travel with them to Germany and Austria.  In Germany, I got to march in the Lion’s International Parade, and that was such an experience.  So.  Many.  People.  We won and became International Champions for the 29^th time!  Lion’s Band explained in a super short way: band kids from all over the state audition for the band, they take about 120ish, and they go to Lion’s Band Camp in July where they learn their parade routine (it's like a little marching show.  It’s a cool concept) and also prepare a concert.  At the end of camp, they perform the parade routine and the concert for parents and friends, and then soon after, they board a plane and head to wherever the Lion’s Convention is being held, where they compete in the parade and then spend the rest of the trip sightseeing and such.  It was super cool, and I got to go back to Europe with my best friends (hurray!).

What else happened in 2013? 

I started college, so that’s pretty big.  I learned that I really like college.  It’s super different from high school, but it’s not always a bad different. 

I met lots of new people in the band and at other places, and I formed some friendships that I really don’t know how I've survived without them all these years.  I can’t wait to see what the rest of college has in store for us.

I learned how to make a pizza from scratch, so that’s cool.

I got to watch my high school band get second place at State Championships.  Being an alumnus of such a great program makes me so happy inside.  Also, also, I got to talk to the band before they boarded the buses to head to championships.  A few days before, I had posted my blog, “My Best For You,” and after reading it, the band director asked me to read it to the band.  I was so excited!  I had always wanted to be allowed to say inspirational things to the band, and this was my chance.  I read the blog and said some more things afterward, and I really enjoyed myself.  I made a bunch of people cry, and that always makes me happy (not that they’re crying, but that my words moved them so much that they cried).

I saw FUN. in concert, and that was super fun.  Me and my friends got tickets on the floor, so we got to be super close to the stage, and when the confetti fell, we were right there getting rained on.  At concerts and events and such, I've always been so jealous of the people that get rained on by confetti.  I loved being one of those people.

I played the bass clarinet for the spring contest of my senior year.  I had never played the bass clarinet, but I like to say I did really well.  However, between that and playing the contrabass clarinet for Lion’s Band, I learned that I prefer my little regular clarinet.

Speaking of my little regular clarinet, I made the Wind Ensemble at college!  I’m one of the two freshmen clarinets, and even though I’m last chair, hey, I’m in the band, which means I get to go to Italy next May!  Woo hoo! Back to Europe!

Oh, and something I definitely can’t forget!  I got my first boyfriend in 2013! *cue awww from studio audience*  He’s a super fantastic guy, and he asked me to be his girlfriend in the most adorable way ever, so you should all be super jealous.  He most likely was one of the first people to read this post, which makes him even cooler.  I can’t wait to see all the adventures we’ll have together.

I probably ate a taco or two in 2013.

I also slept quite a few hours.

So, overall, 2013 was pretty great.  Sure, there were some pretty terrible times that I absolutely hated at the time, and probably still do, but there were also some pretty awesome times, and I made some pretty awesome memories.

Here’s to many more great years like that.

So what do I want to see happen in 2014?

I want to see myself challenged in even more ways than last year.  That means physically, mentally, and emotionally.  I want to learn more and do more.  Basically, I want to continually see that I’m not perfect and I don’t know it all, and that God’s there to show me just that.  But I also know that if He does that, then He’ll also show me how to make it through all those challenges I’ll face, and because of them, I’ll only get better at life in general.  Because we could all get better at that.

I also would like to see myself run more, and my roommate’s determined to make sure of that.

I hope you wish for the same in 2014 (the being challenged part, but the running part too if you’re into that).

Peace out, 2013, it’s been real.  Thanks for the memories, and thanks for the lessons.

2014, get ready, buddy, because here I come.

Mo