Happy Cry

Girls cry.

It's a fact of life. 

We cry when we're hurt, when we're lonely, when we're stressed, or when we're just having one of those days.  There are tired cries, sick cries, hormone cries, angry cries, sad cries, and scared cries... It seems that our tear ducts are just naturally prone to flooding at the most inconvenient of times, and to top it off, girls are also sensitive to those same triggers that tear down the flood gates that keep it in. But sometimes crying isn't a bad thing. Sometimes, it's a really, really good thing. I call them happy cries. :)

And sometimes, I happy cry when someone says something so kind to me, and so thoughtful, and so sincere, that I just can't help but smile and "aw" and cry. 

So to the someone who said all those wonderful things... thanks for making me happy cry. :) 

Audition Day

In every person's life there are moments where the events in your life seem to climax, turn one way or another, or launch you into a new and exciting stage of life. Today is one of those days, because today is audition day.

8:45 you will find me knocking at the door of the School of Music, asking permission to go forth and learn about the passion and love of my life, music. I hope to focus my studies there while attending BYU this fall, and while I plan to make music an integral part of the rest of my life, I hope that today is the day I am launched forward in my pursuit of that goal.

Then, later this afternoon I will be at the Summerhays Recital Hall, performing a gorgeous concerto in hopes of being invited to play it live with the Utah Wind Symphony--the ensemble I love and hope to be a part of one day. My musical future depends on these two events, and it's time now for all those dreams and prayers to hold true. This is the moment. Today is the day.

Audition day: the culmination of everything I've worked for and done in music since I was a little girl. All those lessons and hours of practice, all those performances I've worked for, the frustrations, the joys, the laughter, the tears. It all comes together now. I have loved music, the experiences I've had, the people I've met and the journey I've taken. In the larger scheme of things, audition day may be just one step in the grand staircase I have yet to ascend throughout my life. But it is one step I will gladly take with a big dose of passion, a leap of faith, and a teaspoon of luck.

I couldn't be more excited. :)

Good Days

I love it when I have a good day. :) Though every day has its ups and downs, as long as my day turns out as an "up," I consider it a success. Today was an epic win for two reasons:

1. My audition piece is really coming together and it makes me so excited! I'm auditioning for the BYU School of Music and also the Utah Wind Symphony Concerto Competition tomorrow on Fantasia, and I love the piece, love the sound, and I really look forward to some great things happening! :) I can't wait! :D

2. Driving home from my rehearsal with my accompanist (already in a good mood), I saw a red Volkswagen Beetle wearing these:

They are simply the most adorable things ever! :) Who would've thought they even HAD car eyelashes?! Love it. Love it love it. LOVE IT. :D So when I get a car, I want it to be a red slug bug, and I want it to wear car eyelashes. :) Just like these.



Don't they just make you smile, too?

uniqueness defined

(sidenote: this was the first and only post on the blog I tried to create to replace this one. that experiment failed. but my thoughts didn't. So, here ya go. :D)

One thing that I've kept hidden for a long time is my deep desire to feel unique. To be genuine. To stand out. But as I've progressed through my high school years, I've slowly come to realize that my life is too perfect for any of that. Because when compared to the girls behind some of the blogs I read, I am a stereotype; not "unique." A crafted, typical, Happy Valley Utah Girl from The Bubble. I have the perfect family, the perfect friends, the perfect grades, the perfect life. What voice could the girl-who-has-her-act-together possibly lend to an already overstuffed blogosphere? I ask myself this, but even as I do, I think of the question, "well, who's to say you're not already something unique? Since when is being "unique" something defined?"

I've always wondered this. Everyone is unique by divine design, and yet our society stresses being genuine and authentic in a sense that they fit some unwritten description of  a "unique" individual. Witty, sarcastic people who are just trying to get through their lives in one piece are "unique." The deep thinker who wants to be a writer one day is "unique." The girl who's moved seven times and is trying to find a place in the world is "unique." Why, when the definition of the word "unique" suggests something uncharacterized, something individually divine? To be unique is to be human. But for those who insist on being distinctly individual, is "unique" really "unique"? Or is it just another stereotype? 

Before I sat down and thought it through, I thought I wanted to be the kind of "unique" all the other bloggers were. I wanted to be the girl who was free-spirited, silently suffering yet optimistic in daily endavors. I thought that was what being "unique" meant, because that is the stereotype. However, just recently I realized that none of that is true for me. Though I tried to create a new blog and a new slate and a new start, I simply can't let go of the person I know I am. I cannot try to be anything different because I am only the person I was cut out to be. So rather than mimicing the blogs I enjoy reading, rather than developing a new self image that inevitably crumbles for lack of foundation, I've decided that I want to be the kind of genuine that doesn't have an expectation. I want to be the kind of authentic that doesn't require anything more of me than I already am. I want to be the kind of unique that I've always been. :)

New Look

Last night I stayed up until two a.m. creating an entirely new blog. not this one. 

I think the idea was to be someone else. Even though I'll deny it if you ask me, I guess I'm just a bit jealous of everyone else. Especially the girls behind some of the blogs I stalk. I wanted to be more than just who I was, because lately I've been feeling like I'm a little less than spectacular. 

But when I got on my brand-new blog to post today, I found that I couldn't do it. I can't be someone i'm not. I find this a wonderful thing, because I don't think I could've had the wit to pull it off anyway. Thank goodness for common sense, and the scriptures. Just thought I'd throw that in there. :)

Anyway, if this story has any value, I think it is that my experiment in blog/personality hopping, however short-lived it could be, showed me how desperately I needed to switch things up around here. So, a new title, a new template, and a new look for your viewing and reading pleasures. :) I hope you all like the Leaves From The Butterfly Tree, because I'll probably keep it even if you object. ;P

25 Things I Did Last Week

1. Found a new favorite band: The Script. ;) LOVE THEM! Favorite songs? Science and Faith, Nothing, and The Man Who Can't Be Moved. :)

2. Applied for the BYU School of Music

3. Froze a plastic cup to the floor of a pizza place

4. Taught a clarinet lesson

5. Danced just because

6. Rehearsed for 14 hours with the All State Band. Ouch! :) but worth it!

7. Played a freaking-awesome concert with my All State Mateys. ;D

8. Went to Preference at OHS. Had a great time!

9. Proudly wore a Burger King Crown just because

10. Posed for pictures! Lots of them!

11. Performed a public service by reducing the count of hairy men by one. ;) (He shaved, not died, just in case you needed clarification. ;P)

12. Danced my heart out!

13. Met lots of fun, new people! Clinton, Kyle, Jordan, Kenzie, Sam, Mike, Nicole, and baritone kid. :)

14. Feel asleep by the fireplace. Woke up in sweat and tried to walk back to the room. Legs were jello. :)

15. Squished with three boys in the back seat of a car. Fun... not.

16. I FINISHED MY STERLING SCHOLAR PORTFOLIO!!!! :DDDD!!!

17. Went dress shopping. Found something cute! :)

18. Realized that I write a LOT of smiley faces. :) :) :) Just. All the time. Nbd. :)

19. Nailed the first eight or so sets of arppegios by practicing during government. ;D

20. Almost died coughing in the middle of rehearsal. (THAT was fun. Ters running down my face! Yeah!)

21. Scored my third and final All-State T-shirt. :(

22. Discovered Instagram. ;) Be excited.

23. Flat-out blew off homework, and school, to get important stuff done. :) Now for catching up...

24. Cleaned my room! Finally! :D

25. Jumped like a scaredy cat when I heard my cute aunt laugh! :D

So, basically... my life is crazy. No big deal. :D

The Ultimate Pickle

For those of you familiar with the game "In a Pickle"...

There is an atom in a speck of dust.

That speck of dust is in a tear in a river in the meadow.

The meadow is in smoke, which is in the fire that appears in the reflection in the eye of the needle in a haystack.

The haystack is in a barn in a picture in the frame that sits in the closet of a bedroom in a house.

That house is in a tornado in the sky.

The sky appears in the telescope in the attic, which is mentioned in the note in the envelope in the jacket lying in the mud.

There is mud in the trunk in the alley in Hollywood.

Hollywood is in the dream of the movie star, who sits in a limousine in a parking lot at the theater.

That theater is in a magazine which was thrown into a vase sitting in the doorway in secret.

There is a secret in the recipe for chocolate.

The chocolate is in the stomach of a giraffe in a telephone booth in a rainstorm in America.

America in the past is in the film in a nutshell.

The nutshell is in a box in a warehouse built in a crater in the circle of danger.

There is danger in life.

Life is in the soul of the president who resides in the White House, which is in power.

There is power in hope, and hope is in money that lays with the gold in a mine in a canyon.

The canyon is somewhere in the world, and the world consumes the thoughts of a tourist.

That tourist is in a jam.

Jam is in the sandwich in the lunch of an elephant in a refrigerator in the jungle.

That's in a joke told by the boy in love.

There is love in the gift of a partridge in a pear tree.

That's in a song in the book lying in a library in the mansion that's in the memory in the girl.

The girl is in a bonnet, which is in a corner of a castle in the forest in the story that is told in the newspaper.

The newspaper was thrown in a dumpster in New York.

That city is in the heart of a theif in a pickle.

There is a pickle at the supermarket in the town square in Paris, which is a city in France.

France is in trouble.

There is trouble in the water, and that is in the big mystery residing in the universe.

And all the universe is in the space of the atom in a speck of dust. . . .

Pineapple

Smile Song of the Day #2

paradise. :)

Definition #17

Helpless romantic. /help-lis roh-man-tik/.
Noun.
1. Someone in love with the idea of love
2. Someone to whom the little things mean the most

I'm Famous!

So I'm in photo right now, and we just took our state test.

Don't ask me why digital photography has one of those... it just does... it's a little pointless if you ask me. ;)

Anyway, I finished really early (with a 93% yeah!) so I decided to google myself. This works really well for me because I'm practically famous, and I have to go to the 11th page before I can't find at least one link that's actually me! :D

I feel a little bit like a celebrity. :)
(Actually, the only reason I'm so famous when googled is because I'm probably the only Brittney Theurer in the world. Well, there's one other girl living in South Dakota, but she hasn't done much... Whatever.)

Also, check out my cute photography ads! Not that I'm planning on ever being a photographer, but if I were... cute posters, right?? :D

Color Ad


Black and White

So... yeah! I'm in a good mood right now. :)
Today is such a good day.

My Last 60 Seconds of Childhood...

Already missing it. :)

Why I Say I'm Sorry

I say the words "I'm sorry" quite a lot. And it's not that I go around bumping into people or yelling mean things or doing anything that later requires an apology, but it's just that sometimes I feel like I need to say "I'm sorry."

I end up saying sorry for things that I really don't need to be sorry for. Talking too much to my friends, cleaning up a game, coughing too loud, whatever it might be. In my head it's the only thing I can really say in certain moments, and saying I'm sorry tends to help me feel less obnoxious, even if I'm not. And while it's not excessive, (usually no one notices), today one of my friends responded to my "sorry" with a sigh and the response, "You say you're sorry for like everything!"

Since that, I've been thinking about the reasons why I say sorry a lot. It's been on my mind all day, and I think I have it figured it out.

There are exactly three reasons why I say I'm sorry:

1. To apologize

2. To excuse minor or accidental offenses

3. To make me feel less insecure

The first two are obvious uses, but I especially do number three A LOT. Whenever I feel uncomfortable, when I'm worried about being annoying or offending someone with my existence, I say I'm sorry for everything. Maybe it's not the best habit, but it's certainly not the worst. Sometimes I'm just really really sorry because I'm really insecure for whatever reason. Super pathetic, but at least now it has an explanation. :)

Cristofori's Dream to Mine

When I was taking lessons with my first piano teacher, I always looked up to the older students. They seemed so tall, so mature and grown-up, and most of all, so good at the piano! I wanted to be like them, to play the pieces they could play. During recitals I liked to close my eyes while I listened to the older students and pretend it was me. I imagined performing those pieces, seeing my teachers and friends act so impressed and amazed at my talent. It never occurred to me that I actually could

There was one piece in particular, Cristofori's Dream, that was the pinnacle of all piano accomplishment in my mind. It was a nine-page song, and I thought it was just absolutely beautiful. It was a New Age composition by David Lanz, and more than any other piece I dreamed of playing it.

Years passed, and before I knew it, my teacher pulled out a red plastic bag from the music store during my lesson. Just as a service to her students, she would always buy the music for us and we'd pay her back for it. Usually we got new music when we finished the previous level, but this time she said she had something special.

She pulled out for me a large, gray book and turned to a page near the back. She handed the music to me saying, "I think you'll enjoy this." When I looked down, I couldn't believe what I saw.

"Really?!" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes, this won't be too hard for you," was all she said.

I didn't understand it. She wasn't trying to make it a big scene, this wasn't one of those rite-of-passage moments for piano students. She didn't seem to realize exactly what this particular piece meant to me, but there I was, just a sixth grader, holding Cristofori's Dream, my dream piece, in my lap. I told her it was something I had looked forward to since I was a little piano student. She only smiled and said, "well, then you'll have some fun with it."

And I did. Only a few weeks later did I consider Cristofori's Dream conquered. I played it at my next recital, and joyed in the fact of becoming the pianist I had dreamed of being. It was one of my most wonderful piano moments, except for one thing: I had imagined the moment a little bit bigger.

Once I finished playing the piece I felt no different than before. Sure, I had managed my dream piece, but it wasn't anything big or important. It was no impromptu, no sonata, no concerto or rhapsody. In fact, from a music theorist's standpoint, it was quite a simple piece. I felt a little bit smaller. While after years of practice and hard work I had become one of the "older students" I had once so idolized, I also realized at that moment that New Age was not exactly the top of the achievement pyramid. But perhaps I had climbed the first stair. I was closer.

Closer is something that has propelled me through various levels of achievement in music throughout my life. Looking back on it, I sometimes wonder how it was that I ever set my sights on something that now seems a very low expectation. But then I remember that at the time, it was all I could see. Nothing can diminish the level of inspiration Cristofori's Dream gave me when I was a younger and less experienced pianist, just as nothing can compare to the self-satisfaction I feel when I compare my current goals to the ones I held previously. Once I had desired more than anything to be the "older student." Now I desire to be something even greater. A professional musician. And while this time there is no specific piece to push me forward, I revel in the memory of seeing something, dreaming of it, and achieving it.

Imagine yourself where you want to be

then make that dream a reality. :)

Just thought I'd share one of my personal mottos.

:D