
I hate summers...
I really do, beyond belief. It's so hot and muggy in Miser-cough-Missouri. The worst thing is that I can't think of anything to do with my time, now that I don't devote my time to school. And you forget all of the math that you learned in the previous year! So you get stuck in the slow class...like me this year.
Ehem, sorry for the sudden rant. Hi, I'm Samantha, a thirteen-year old who's addicted to piano and lives in a concrete hell slightly outside of St. Louis, inside the United States, which is famous for having the first president who's a monkey. Go figure.
I guess I'm not the smartest, seeing as I'm in the slow class for math this year in eighth grade, but I'm in advanced English, so does that make me smart, or does it just fill the indent made by my math standing, making me average?
I enjoy music, and can't walk by the piano in my house without playing it. (I really like playing songs from the anime Noir). But then again, I have to kick myself for not learning earlier, because I started lessons when I was in sixth grade (Painfully late.) I don't even know if I'm good, due to the fact that my piano teacher never gives me complements. She doesn't give me complaints, does that count for something?
I plan on being a professional pianist, or maybe play in a restaurant or something. I really don't care what I do, as long as I have enough money to live where I want to. (I'd love to go to Seattle or San Francisco, or somewhere where it gets foggy a lot.)
I like writing, but I consider it to be akin to playing piano. They're both ways of expressing what's tragic and happy, what's frivolous and serious, what makes you laugh and cry. Like, for every tune I play, I can think of a story, while every story triggers a feeling that can be assosiated with music.
Also, when you think of it, they use the same principals. They appeal to emotion, they have climaxes and preludes, short studies and huge pieces, and music has the same large vocabulary that writing has to use.