Fictionpress

Dear people, 

Thank you for giving my blog views. I have neglected this page for a long time, but somehow still got views, so thank you.

Speaking of views, I have been publishing on Fictionpress.com under the name Ismae Rienne. My ongoing story is called Sonorous, and it is focused on music (surprising, right?).

I think it’s pretty good, so check it out if you are so inclined. I will put a link in here somewhere. 

https://m.fictionpress.com/u/1091593/Ismae-Rienne
Ah, there it is. 

On another note, I am working on a lavender handbag, which is pissing me off. But what else is new, am I right? 

New Flute Covers!

I have done some more flute work since my last post, so here are my covers:

Danny Boy

Seasonal Feathers

Suo Gan

I am planning some Christmas covers, little short clips of some songs. Nothing really major, because they take a surprising amount of time to record and mix.

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving and has a wonderful holiday in December!

 

President’s Own United States Marine Band!

Right now, the President’s Own Marine Band is about to play and I’m very excited! There is a good turn out:

Right now they are just warming up, but they are playing some cool stuff. One of the songs, Elsa’s Procession to the Cathedral from Lohengrin, my band has played before.

The concert is about to begin, so bye for now!

Why I Am An Atheist

Two years ago, in my sociology class, my teacher asked for a show of hands around the classroom for the representation of different faiths. There were about ten Catholics, nine Protestants, two Jews, one Buddhist/Christian (a kid with parents of different beliefs), and other assorted Christian denominations like Lutheran, etc. Then there was little old me who raised their hand when the teacher asked about atheists. He was interested in knowing my opinion; all of the kids were. I simply shared that I could not reconcile what I have personally observed in the world and what I held in my world view with some sort of God or supreme being.

Everyone seemed cool with that except this one girl, whom I have know for many years and disliked for the majority of that time. She decides to say, “I will pray for you.”

What the f*ck?

I did the traditional “I’ll be thinking of you” bullshit that atheists always do when confronted with people like this.

I understand that when people say things like this, they mean well 99.999999% of the time. They genuiely wish to express that they care for you and hope for the best for you. And that is great when someone is sick, in a bad relationship or breakup, lost their job, or some other terrible thing occurs in someones life. I would probably say the same thing to someone religious (or at least the atheist equivalent).

But what did I say that warranted that kind of response? I don’t have cancer, bitch. And it isn’t you job to save me from a hell I don’t belive exists, either.

Below are some of my reasons for being atheist:

Heaven/Hell 

Personally, I believe that, should people go to heaven or hell after death (I have an open-mind, anything could happen I suppose), it should be based on a merit system rather than a I-prayed-six-times-a-day-and-was-a-priest-and-could-recite-the-entire-new-testament kind of system. Volunteered in orphanages in Southeast Asia? Lobbied for environmental protection? Good job.

Hold on, wait just a minute! You forgot Jesus was the reason for the season? Your ass is burning for eternity! You married the same gender? Damnation. You forgot that women didn’t have the right to choose? F*ck you and your sinner ass!

In what way does this system make sense?

Blind Faith

What bothers me most about established religious teachings is the willfull ignorance of followers. When a person of another belief system or no belief system brings up a relevant point about someone’s religion, suddenly it becomes a matter of faith.

God supposedly gave us brains for a reason, but religion of any kind gives us the excuse to simply forget that things like evolution and other ideas exist. If I was on the same level as any god, I would want my creations to be thinking beings! If I wanted a colony of bees, I would not have given my creations the degree of thought humans possess. And, if I did want my creations to follow me to that degree, why would I leave room for doubt in their minds? I am all-powerful, right?

atheism 1

Sayings that will never be disconfirmed

In Christianity there is a saying “God works in mysterious ways.” So, when there is a supposed miracle, God has worked his magic to save the day. But when ISIS decapitates another journalist or another woman gives herself a coat-hanger abortion because she can’t get one legally or when a boy about to go to high school blows his brains out to escape what seemed to be a charmed life, God is still working his magic. As someone who has seem what life can throw at people, be it the death of a parent, the loss of a child, sickness, and depression, I don’t think any god worthy of praise would allow these things to happen.

The problem is that no amount of logic or reasoning or proof otherwise will ever be able to disconfirm this belief. It is vague enough to ellude contradiction but concrete enough to warrant belief. If someone can figure out a logical trap for this statement, I will give them five hundred dollars.

Religious beliefs are littered with these statements, of which have no possibility of falsification.

Morals

A popular question thrown at atheists is the notion of “If you don’t believe in God, where do you get your morals?”

There is a simple answer: your brain. More specifically, the judgment section of your frontal lobe. That’s pretty much what is doing the governing anyway. Last time I checked, the Bible didn’t bitch slap you of it own accord everytime everytime you said the word ‘shit’. No. That’s not how it works, people. Society declares the morals of the masses, not a book written by people two thousand years ago or more. As it should, otherwise we would still be stoning adulterers to death instead of going on Judge Judy for ‘pain and suffering’.

So, there you have it. Probably the most unorganized blog post by an atheist you will ever find. If you don’t like what I think, that’s fine. I am not trying to convert people. On the contrary, figure out what works best for you to acheive your own happiness. That is all I want.

 

New Flute Cover

I just recently got a new program for putting together flute covers and I believe it to be pretty awesome, not gonna lie. I am now using Audacity, a free download, to mix and record flute pieces. Hope you like it! I am really proud of myself!

P.S. sorry for the hiatus! I have been super busy with dual enrollment and marching band rehearsals

The Young People Today…

There are many things in life that piss me off. After all, I am just a hormonal teenager. I clearly cannot assess issues with my own thoughts and beliefs, nor should I try. But three things piss me off:

  1. When people say they are going to pray for me
  2. When people are hypocritical
  3. When people complain about the youth of today and dream of the ‘good old days’

Today (or rather, this morning, for I am drafting this at 12:14 AM), I shall address the third number.

Be aware that this is my personal post. If you disagree with what I have to say, there are many options to choose from. You may: click off of this page because you can see that this is not up your alley, read it and then get on with your day, read it then leave a respectful comment, or read it and get angry and get the f*ck out. I doubt that this post will get anyone triggered though.

Moving on now, I would like to address my grievance. When I say “people complaining about the youth of today”, I am refering to the dunderheads that see the young adults in today’s society and condemn them as low lifes, filth, or not as upstanding as the ‘good old days’.

Gee, golly whiz pal, let’s go fishing! I have to be home for dinner, though; dinner is always at 5pm. If I am late, Mom will give me a lickin’ for sure!

hatsune miku

I was recently talking to my mom about her childhood. And, just a little hint: her childhood was nothing like this! She was raised by a single mother until she remarried. Her best friend was also raised by a single parent (virtually no parent, but that is not my business). My grandmother moved down here from Canada and never had a lot of money. All of the children ended up getting jobs. Her sister finally scraped enough together to buy an air conditioner for her mother, who used to cry because of the heat. So some people want to tell me it was so much better back then? And, oh yeah, my grandmother retired happily after remarrying for a third time and is now my next door neighbor. My mother went to Grad School.

Rosy retrospection is a state in which someone recalls past events more fondly then they would have assessed them when they actually occured. It is like how you recall summer during every school year as some sort of beacon of hope, remembering it as way more fun then it actually was. But when you get to your next summer, it’s half way through and you’re bored as shit. Yeah, it is the same phenomenon.

Now that the people who are doing the complaining are getting on in years, they have a tendency to remember things with a way more favorable reaction then they would have before. Goddamn, that paddle on the ass sure straightened me up! And I am sure glad that I remained abstinent, alcohol-free, and never once smoked marijuana for my entire adolescence! That’s a joke, right? RIGHT?

Open your eyes!

We live in a world dominated by technology and science. Chances are, the people fixing your internet connection are not eligible for Social Security, ya old fart. The young people are the ones the old are relying on; calling us a bunch of names is not exactly a pat on the back, gramps.

thanks a lot

It is more than that, though.

When I look around at my friends, I see a group of heavily motivated, successful, bright, engaging young adults. The entire marching band I am in is composed (eh? composed? haha) of teenagers. These wonderful individuals spend hundreds of dollars and hundreds of hours to put together a show for the school and for themselves. How can someone claim these people as the ‘lazy generation’? It is inconceivable and just unintelligent to do so. And, of course, we have our faults as well. Some people may swear a lot, some people drink too much, some people are oversexed. It is the way of the world. No one is perfect.

These old people need to stop expecting us to be perfect.

We don’t need our teachers hitting us to teach us a lesson, nor should we be raised without access to technology just to prove a point. Let the children be children. Let the teenagers be teenagers. With realistic expectations and restrictions, of course. Last time I checked, the so called ‘millenials’ never got us into the Iraq War, created this huge debt hole the USA is in, or caused the hole in the ozone layer (I heard the the hole is actually starting to regenerate, so three cheers for good news, am I right?). Take a look at yourselves, folks, before you start shit.

Mistakes happen (lol, duh, Donald Trump is a nominee for President), so it is best to learn from them rather than long for the time before. It is pointless. It is unneccessary. It is downright insulting.

This is CynicalTeenagerBlog, signing off from this post at around 1:00am. Good Morning, peeps!

Why I Love Music?

I was so bored today. So completely, mind-numbingly, rather alarmingly bored. There are no words in the English language potent enough to describe how bored I was today. I had to utilze all of my Youtube playlists to keep afloat.

Summer has indeed begun.

I am in high school, and as such, summer is a time of rejoycing, of giving thanks to the school board gods for ending school in time for some fun in the summer heat. The sun. The sand. The waves. Nothing encaptures a summer day like the beach. The ranks of instagram and snapchat are filled with beach pictures and videos.

The only problem, for me, is that I don’t really like going to the beach.

I know, boo-f*cking-hoo. Poor ME, I don’t LIKE the beach. The whole world must stop and readjust itself to suit my needs (obviously).

Let me explain.

I am pale as the moon, alabaster, white, translucent, and any other descriptors for the unfortunately snowy-skinned population. Believe me, I go outside all of the time, and I live in Florida for Christ’s-sake. One would think I would have built up some sort of tan, but alas, this has not come to pass. And as such, a trip to the beach is not as simple as slapping on a bathing suit, climbing in the car, and going. No. I must put layers of sunscreen all over my body. Yep, 100+ SPF. Sunscreen that just has to be showered off two hours later.

I am chunky, overweight, flabby, and as euphemisms deem it, ‘beautiful’, or some other bullshit. I am down with it, but I also don’t want to worry about my breasts tumbling out of some revealing concoction of ruffles either. So, I wear a cute one-piece that is a bit of a rough ride to get over and around my ass.

I am out-of-shape, wimpy, asthmatic, and just not a physical person. So, I am content to just bury myself in the sand or float in the water, but beach volley ball is just NOT my idea of a good time.

So, not only is going a pain, but it is a little pointless to even try.

Now, you may be thinking, “You’re just some dumbass kid. You really live up to your name, Miss Cynical Teenager. Are you just some other millenial I here about on Fox News?”

fox news

Okay, first of all, if you fit into the category of Fox News watcher, please go outside right now, I mean it, and spray yourself in the face with a water hose. Just do it.

Anyways,

I like music, and I consider myself to be pretty good at it.

I can play the flute, clarinet, piano, and piccolo. I have composed two piano songs of my own( here and here). And I have taught myself how to do all of these things.

I am no master, by any stretch. I am not a prodigy or even very good, all things considered. I think this is the real appeal of music for me, which sounds weird to say.

The best thing about music is that you don’t have to be very good.  Music can be a one-man show or an entire effort by a group. Music can be out doors or indoors. Music can be subdued or expressive. Music can be internal or external. Hell, music can be all of these things at the same time.

Music is beautiful.

There is no way around it. Music contains what is the best in this world. All people here about these days are shootings and bombings and diseases and wars and discrimination and debt and suffering. Malnutrition and starvation and parasites and death and injustice and ingnorance and destruction. Music, if it is even just for a moment, can make all of these things go away.

Music can expose you to the world with different styles and traditional instruments; you can expose music with your own styles and feelings. Music is meaning without language, sorrow without sadness, joy without laughter.

And that is why I like music.

Have you ever heard someone disagree about a song? Has there ever been a #Brexit decision about a piece of music? No, because I think music is one of the only things we as human beings can agree on. And thank God for that, or else my newsfeed would be even worse.

So, while other teenagers are at the beach enjoying themselves, I will be having a grand old time working on my next flute cover.

F*ck sunscreen. I have some music to learn.

College Tours

Hi everyone! I just got back from a college tour, which is part of the reason for my lack of post activity. I have some book reviews in the works, but those take FOREVER to write. I mean, I like to write them, and if I did not like to write them, then I would not write them. But, they are time consuming, especially when I have multiple ones I am working on at once. So, I decided to write to describe my recent college tour to put something out there on my blog (after all, isn’t that what a blog is for?). I hope someone finds this interesting, amusing, or otherwise worth their time 🙂

So, to begin with, I went to seven campuses on the east coast. In order, I went to Princeton, Columbia, Yale, Brown, Harvard, American, and Georgetown. Ya know, the unattainable, unaffordable, and unwelcoming ones? But, I’m always up for a challenge. However, the most remarkable thing about this trip, besides the price tag, was how little of my cynicism was reasonable. Overall, the universities were more welcoming, affordable, and warm than I expected.

For a little background, I did very well on the SATs, pulling in a 760 reading score and a 770 math score ( my school did not pay for the writing), and I maintain a 4.0 GPA and 5.0 HPA. So, I thought, why not?

I then mentioned to my dad that it would be neat to actually experience the college campuses in person before applying. We then planned a trip, flying into Newark and out of D.C. and driving using a rental car.

Let me tell you, this trip was f*cking expensive. I mean damn. A freaking Holiday Inn cost my family $200 a freaking night. Yeah, a Holiday Inn. It ain’t the effing Plaza. Not to mention, the rental car company, Avis, took us to the cleaners. $500 baby, with a three-day-early return. And airfare. Jesus Christ, $1100. So, there goes my college fund. Thanks a lot, I appreciate the help Avis, American Airlines, United, Expedia, and Holiday Inn. Love ya.

Now that I have that out of my system, I shall now impart my opinion on these schools here, so if any strapped for cash student wants to hear about my experience, listen up.

Princeton: One thing that can be said about Princeton is that it is beautiful. Seriously, this is one of the most beautiful places I have been. When you hear ‘Ivy League’, this is probably the image conjured. The buildings looked like castles and everything, from the chapels to the restrooms, were amazing.

Another notable facet of Princeton is that frat houses are not recognized. Rather, the students reside in themed housing or little eating clubs. This was a common theme among Ivy Leagues, but some, like Brown, were a little more open with frats and sororities. I thought that this was a good idea, an effort to keep away bad press.

Columbia: The best part about Columbia is not necessarily about the school so much as the area it is in. Centered in NYC, a bustling metropolis, Columbia has many opportunities for students to get part-time jobs or internships to boost their resume. This is mainly why I am interested in Columbia.

Columbia’s academics seem focused around the Core, a set of classes required by all undergraduate students, including a physical education component. Fitting is with a more liberal arts education, Columbia was the most formal when it came down to distribution requirements, which may be a good or bad thing.    

Yale: This school was my favorite! It was beautiful, had great academics, and had residential colleges. What are residential colleges, you ask? Well, I had no freaking clue either, but I really like the sound of them. Basically, groups of undergraduates are placed in groups and all live in one little area/building with their own crest and name. Think of Hogwarts in Harry Potter. Yeah, sounds pretty cool, right? That’s what I thought, at least.

Along with this, the requirements were different than Columbia. Rather than having classes be required for graduation, certain areas were required for graduation. So, instead of taking only ENC1101 and only ENC1101 for the credit, you could take a creative writing class,  a science fiction class, or a how to write lab reports class. I really thought this flexibility suited me better than the rigidity of Columbia, while not being as loose as the next university, Brown.

Brown: I have conflicting feelings about Brown. On one hand, it is a very exciting school, full of opportunity and freedom. Brown does not have any distribution requirements, a far cry from Columbia’s Core curriculum. That being said, there are many cases where your concentration may require many credits for completion and as an incoming freshman, how does one know what to take?

Another component that had me a little leery was the financial aid package (btw, I’m hopefully going to do another little rant post on this…needless to say, my family cannot afford $60,000 a year, that’s bullshit). All the Ivy Leagues, and most other colleges, provided financial aid packages to incoming students on a need-basis. I really agree with this. How can the best institutions in the world offer merit packages? Isn’t getting in merit enough? Most of the Ivy Leagues provide financial aid without loans, but Brown automatically works a loan into the award. I know that it is only like $5,000 a year, but any mention of loans (and therefore debt) has me running for the hills.

Besides these observations, Brown was a terrific university.

 

Harvard: Harvard was probably my second favorite school that my family and I visited on the trip. Very similar to Yale, Harvard had area requirements for graduation, allowing for more freedom in scheduling. Again, Harvard also had a shopping period whereby students could try out different classes without committing to a schedule. I really liked this idea, because I am sure everyone has experienced that time when you signed up for something and had the realization that it was not really for you ( there was a time that this hippie lady kept saying I was a crystal child or something, but I was just trying not to piss my pants from laughter. Ah, the good old days). The only thing that was a downside for Harvard was that students had to declare their major at the beginning of their sophomore year rather than the end of the year. I don’t think this would bother me too much, but some people may not appreciate it.

 

American: The accessible and attainable school of the bunch, I really liked American University. Their internship and study abroad opportunities are what really drew my eye. Being centered in Washington D.C., American had connections in the embassies (half a mile away) and the capitol ( a subway and bus ride away). The acceptance rate was 25% rather than 6%, so I will definitely apply to this school.

 

Georgetown: This school is probably my least favorite. I just thought it was a tad uppity and rather snobby. That may be just my own impression, and I am sure that there are plenty of nice people who go here ( I had the pleasure of meeting a few). However, the requirements for entrance are worse than the Ivy Leagues and the campus was definitely geared for more graduate students. The main benefit of Georgetown is its situation in D.C. and the opportunities afforded to the students. Overall, while a very prestigious and excellent school, I feel that it was not for me.

 

 

 

Essay Contest

I recently entered in a writing contest that I won last year. Unfortunately, I did not win (boohoo, poor me). One of my friends won, though, so that’s nice. Keepin’ it in the family, ya know? Gotta pass on the tradition.

Anyway, I thought it would be good to upload it to see what other people think. Let’s see if I can get any comments this time 🙂

The prompt was something like if your house is on fire, which book of fiction would you save and why?

                                          And the Tree Was Happy

I consider myself a moderate in most things, more things than anyone cares to know. I am moderately musical, moderately creative, moderately introverted, moderately liberal, moderately feminist, and moderately lazy. One of the only convictions I have is that nothing I own is worth my life. So, should a situation arise where there is a fire in my home, the first thing I would do is get my family and myself to safety. If I had time to rescue my cat, my tablet computer, my parents’ wills, my laptop, my rat, my flute, my clarinet, my mother’s jewelry, my computer’s hard-drive, and anything of real monetary or sentimental value, then the fire must not be all-consuming and I would not have to perform this so-called ‘rescue.’ However, if I did proceed to choose an item I could order on Amazon.com for ten dollars, you could bet your buttons that it would not be a tawdry Harlequin teenage romance. I would choose The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein, arguably the most influential book of my childhood.

My childhood was one to be envious of; it was stock full of dancing, singing, twirling, joking, and laughing, often ending in a childish disaster. One pervasive aspect of that experience was the warmth of the orange tree growing in my backyard. My sister and I, along with our fellow neighborhood kids Sam and Parke, would play-act as outdoorsmen with the tree being our ‘base camp’ and we would collect fallen oranges and use a juicer to extract the juice. We would use the leaves, alongside pilfered bottle caps, as currency in our market where we sold dye from the bougainvillea flowers that dot the chain-link fence separating the yard from the foreign lands of the neighbors and every night, exhausted from the day’s ‘efforts’, my sister and I would beg our mom for a story. On the days where she did not just make up a random, nonsensical story for us on the spot, she would read from our Dr. Seuss books and, of course, The Giving Tree, a story about a tree and her love for a little boy as he grew to be an old man. As he aged, the boy forgot about the tree, but the tree was always there for him upon his return and the tree ended up giving her apples, branches, and trunk to him to make him happy.

After Hurricane Jeanne in 2004, the orange tree uprooted and died. The Waste Management Authority had the task of dragging it out of the backyard. Needless to say, Sam, Parke, my sister, and I were all quite devastated. The following night we held a funeral ritual, and by the end of the year we had a new designated market spot and drank store-bought orange juice.

A few years later, Sam entered Middle School, and she was too busy to join us outside. The next year, my sister followed suit, and the next year, Parke left as well. So, like the Giving Tree at the end of the story, I was left all alone in the fading glory of childhood.

Now, as a teenage girl in high school, if someone were to pose the question to me, “What is your favorite book?” I would not provide The Giving Tree as an answer, for it is not my favorite book. The Giving Tree represents the part of me that I have lost with age, the part of me that still longs to be outside swinging in the branches and collecting the oranges and climbing its trunk and pretending to hold a market and playing hide-and-go-seek and sleeping in its shade. To me, The Giving Tree is not a book that is read then placed on a dusty shelf to be picked up later when I feel nostalgic and sentimental like some old fool. It reminds me of where I came from, my origins, and where I must go in the future. For even when I go off to college and get a job and retire, I know there will always be a giving tree here at home for me to sit and rest upon when all is said and done with my life.

I hope everyone likes it 😛

That Was Really Rude!

If anyone has experienced Walmart customer service recently, rudeness should be a familiar concept. We all know it and we all hate it. The moment where there are thirty checkout stations in the store and only two are open and the cashier acts like it is your own personal fault their life sucks so badly. The traditional trademarks are the eye roll, the ‘finger’, and the ever-present “I’ll be with right with you.”

Even friends can be rude. Today, an acquaintance of mine dropped a forty-pound barricade on my toe. Let me tell you, that bitch hurt. She did not even apologize and did not even seem to notice because she was on her phone. Now, I’m pissed at her and reply with a sarcastic response of “thanks a lot,” and she responds with, “that was kind of rude.”

The F***? I’m rude? Girl, you had better watch out!

Okay, so I am sure that the absolute last thing people want to hear about is my poor, wounded toe, so let me explain. I have come to the conclusion that most of the time ‘rudeness’ may not be rude at all. Think about it. From my perspective, my friend was being rude by completely ignoring me in the first place, causing her to drop the barricade on my toe. On the other hand, she might not have had any idea that she dropped it on me in the first place and my response to her was interpreted as my reaction to her being on her phone, not the aforementioned barricade fiasco. Thus, I was the rude one.

However, that situation was conditional. There are some situations in which I have no idea of why people think they would be right. One time, when my mother was driving me to a class, a BMW driver cut her off and then had the balls to flick her off. Now, in what possible scenario, would this be the correct thing to do? Really? Dude, you’re the one who just cut her off. And based on the fact that you responded by flicking her off proves that you did notice her.

So, I repeat, what would possess him to do this? He was in the wrong, yet he proceeded in being a total jerk. Maybe he had a bad day? I’ll never know.

In the end, what causes rudeness? I believe that some people just view the situation from a different perspective and some people are just assholes (the chances go up if you drive a BMW), and there is nothing that can be done against rudeness. It is a fact of life and the best thing people can do is stop giving a shit what the front desk person in Human Resources says to you.