Delicate

Well, so much for being faithful. :) Sorry, all... I did try, at least, I had aspirations.

As of right now, I am sitting at Ana and Joe's house in their office. Its wonderfully nice, they have an office. How magical! Finally, Joe, the first brother in law i ever have had, can record and create music without clutter. It all fits so perfectly. How magical. They moved here around one and a quarter months ago... and every time I come here, i don't mind admitting, I'd rather not leave. Its like a different world here, not loud, crammed or overwhelming. It feels like you can breath without offence, that there is nothing you should have to do, unless you felt it was the logical, necessary step to having success. At our house, there are so many things to do, one can barely feel anything is logical, and you want to do it all at once whether or not you can actually physically do it.

I keep having this feeling that life would be more magical somewhere else. Oh that I would know someone who lived far away that I could go escape to. Usually that would include a family member, but now everyone is at home, what is one to do? I want to get out of here, at least for a while. It could be whim, at this point, but I've got the desire that will not be stifled. I chatted with mom for an hour yesterday about fashion as a major with a minor in journalism. Its one of the situations in life where i have so many talents (if you will), that I can't decide. She left me with this. "Do whatever you would want to do if you never got married."

... Of course, I will get married. But I think its tremendously smart.

I can't sleep, so I blog.

In unison with the millions of other americans suffering from insomnia, i am trying to find a way to sleep. And I didn't blog today, which i thought, in the theme of faithfulness, I ought to.
Although I often have a difficult time puting my thoughts in order, I am hoping that by blogging, my thoughts will eventually get in line.

Thoughts of today would include the following:

Laptops create heat on your lap. It can be uncomfortable, I suggest never using them.
How do you know its the real thing?
Is technology a god?
Weddings make me excited.

For the first, as an online student, I spend a considerable amount of time online. I use a laptop. I usually am sitting against a wall, on my bed. Heat happens. Its uncomfortable, and I don't like computers.
Sean. sean. sean. sean. He's the man... the friend I've so recently discovered and have had few discrepancies over. My question: what is the limit to being considered "needy/jealous" in reguards to friendships with other girls. I see him every morning, and know how he feels about me. Really, I'm quite honored. He's ... good.

Technology is not a god. I wrote a positon paper about that for my English 2 class today. I think I did alright.

Mommy and I glue invitations today. We had girl chat time. I can appreciate her so much, always willing to be a mother, even when there are infinitely more things she has to do with her time. She is the best role model I've seen. I've had. Though others have come close, she is tried and true. As Plato said, "Testing proves truth", Martha Kontur has been tested, and is true.

I am exhausted. I am sleeping.

My Attempt to Be Faithful

Today officially starts the beginning of my attempt to create a blog discussing my family; the goings on there, and my personal and general opinions.

I want a delicious cup of Damascus Road coffee, with cream added enough to make it a soft caramel color, and enough sugar to give it a smooth sweet taste. Coffee is the basic staple of the Kontur household. In the morning, the first person up is, by default, elected to make the first pot. Which is usually consumed by 8:30 on a work day, 9:30 on any other day. Then starts the second pot. That pot usually isn't finished on a normal day, and is usually gone on a work day. If dad makes the pot, it is usually a little weak. (He likes to take the first purc which is always the strongest portion of the pot.) If Bethany makes it, it is almost always perfect (she likes it strong). If I make it, it is usually a hit or miss, at least in my opinion. I can never seem to get the grounds perfectly fine.

Okay, so I don't need coffee. I just want coffee.

And I'm exhausted, but I'm really enjoying my Avett Brothers pandora station right now.

Since today is Wednesday, we have church at night. My mother is the worship leader, I play guitar and violin, Abigail plays keys, and my brother John plays the Electric. (Tonight is his big debut. He should do alright. I'm not looking forward to possibly splitting my fingers open again... Its an all night worship service.) As my mother gives me last instruction before leaving the house, I'm presented with the options of continuing to blog, or to clean up what must be our dining and living rooms. She is going through our school year prep for my younger siblings and it seems to have taken over our entire home, causing me a headache. (Or maybe its the lack of coffee...)

I've been trying to post to facebook a song by Chatham County Line, Route 23. Its especially good. Good harmonies, good rhythmic patterns. I love it.

For now, I've made the economical decision to clean up the house. After all what am I, but an element of this very home. This is me. And I will thrive here, or die here.

Its almost the Mid 80's Tomorrow.....

Time is passing so quickly. Time is an illusion, and lunch time, doubly so. Lydia is a little sad, tired.... and Caleb and Katie are here. She is sitting downt to the table with a cup of chocolate milk and subway. I think that... I did a good job cleaning the downstairs.. and I have drivers ed tomorrow morning. I dispise, despise, despise drivers ed.

I don't feel worthy.


thats all.

Goodbye, Lenin!

(Imagine I'm telling you this post with my voice, and in the back round you are listening to this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0TWrJZ1tUGY&feature=related )
I hold so much family pride for 711 Johnston Street. I sat on the top right corner of the building overlooking the highway "interchange" with two thoughts in my mind. 1: Why do sparrows dive bomb down so swiftly, then always catch an up draft and return to the sky? and 2: If I could play the music that was made by the height, clouds and sunset, I would be in the heart of God himself.

Why play others music? Ever? . . . If you have music, if you trust your fingers . . . Why play the music that has already been written?

I always feel somewhat frustrated by my physical limitations to find every minor and major, half-stepped, slurred grace note... always hoping someday I'll be magically enlightened to find rhythmic patterns that cause people to dream.

Anyway. I played in the empty 2nd floor, the acoustics slay your soul. You could hear a pin drop.
Not to mention the organ upstairs. On the third floor, there is an organ. It's magical, but slightly dated with its drum patterns.

With anything else not said, however.... Dream. Dream. Dream.

Au Revior, mon ami

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iE3HbiCET2g&NR=1

My greetings to you all...

Today, today!
... tonight...
though tis late, I bid thee all greetings, and fairwells.

Till another day, Au Revoir