Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” Essay Example for Free

Tchaikovsky’s â€Å"1812 Overture† Essay The concert that I chose to review was an online performance of Tchaikovsky’s â€Å"1812 Overture†. This overture is the finale to his Symphony No. 5. The piece that I chose was performed by the Berlin Philharmonic on October 9, 2008 and conducted by Seiji Ozawa. Ozawa has conducted orchestras in Germany, Austria, France and many other countries. He holds the distinction of being, â€Å"the first recipient of Japan’s Inouye Sho†¦recognizing lifetime achievement in the arts† (â€Å"Seiji Ozawa: Conductor). The â€Å"1812 Overture† has movements that have become famous and have been used in movies and on television, but the sections of it that have been used in these places don’t convey the whole feeling of the overture. The â€Å"1812 Overture† as a whole is a moving piece because it combines elements of music to uniquely convey emotion. The overture begins adagio, with the strings playing in a very legato style. The notes are smoothly combined with a slight tremolo to them to evoke emotion. The woodwinds enter next, with the flutes featured legato in accompaniment to the strings. Ozawa conducts with his whole body and his arms seem to move in the same way that he wants to listener to feel the music. The tone of the piece changes when the percussion enters espressivo and joins the wind instruments and the strings. The piece begins to accelerate when the percussion instruments begin to play. An oboe solo contrasts with the percussion’s vibrato. The introduction of the percussion makes the whole orchestra play faster and more allegro. As the brass and percussion instruments increase in speed and volume the entire orchestra plays forte and with force. At about four minutes into the overture as the overture becomes more and more allegro there is a section that echoes the drum section of the overture that has become so famous that will be played later. This opens up a section of grandioso style with all instruments playing forte and allegro, giving the overture an overall lively and quickly moving feeling. There is an interlude that follows this quick movement of the overture. The strings are featured in this movement and the whole movement is played softer, more adagio and with several glissando sections from the stringed and wind instruments to calm the overture down. Here an oboist and flautist each perform a cavatina, a short solo that is part of the larger piece the orchestra is playing. Their solo parts echo the orchestra but also compliment it. From here the overture returns to a vivace tone and all sections play briskly, lively and fast. The timpani accompanies this fast pace with several forte, brisk notes. Ozawa moves the orchestra easily through the overture’s theme and the adagio sections seem to blend easily with the vivace movements and make the overture feel whole and vibrant. There is a wind instrument section shortly after the timpani that leads into the forte, grande finale of the overture that has become so popular. This section features the flutes and clarinets playing a very fast and repetitive section. When I listened to this section I felt that the whole energy of the overture was accelerating. This was accompanied by timpani and percussion making the movement more forceful and forte. The overture continues to build and accelerate in volume and pace as it reaches its finale. As the strings speed up the brass section joins them to make the movement more forceful. The percussion joins in with bells that seem almost dissonant to the other instruments. This feeling of semi-dissonance is because the other sections are all playing fast, repetitive fifth note tremolo progressions while the bells seem to be playing almost at random. The bells didn’t quite seem to fit with the rhythm of the other instruments at this point to me, but as the movement progressed towards the finale I understood how the bells fit in to the whole piece. The bells play in a similar tone as the other instruments, so even though they are playing in a completely different time signature they don’t seem completely out of place. I enjoyed watching the bells being played during this section also because the bells used are so large they were almost the size of the man playing them. This somehow made them seem even more powerful and forceful when they were being played. As the movement progresses it slows down briefly once more, becoming slightly more adagio but the bells don’t stop. The bells continue to play and act as a bridge to bring the othe r sections into the grande finale section. In the final moments of the overture the percussion and brass sections seem to take over. The whole finale is played very grande, with all of the instrumental sections combining to give the overture a very big, encompassing feel. In the performance notes for a performance by the Burgess Hill Symphony Orchestra, Sonia Hill describes the overture as, â€Å"a festive and patriotic piece to immortalize Napoleon’s defeat and celebrate the liberation of the Russians† (Hill) and this final movement illustrates that inspiration. Ozawa’s body language changes during this final movement also, and he begins to move as quickly and forcefully as he wants the orchestra to play. If the other instrumental sections were not playing as forte as they are, the percussion section would probably drown them out. The end is punctuated by many staccato sections from the brass instruments that echo the forte notes by the percussion section. This is then contrasted right afterwards by longer, smoother notes from the woodwind section. The reason the end of the overture is so memorable and powerful is because of that contrast between the forte percussion playing huge, booming notes, the brass playing staccato and vivace, and the wind sections providing tremolo sections that accompany them. The final moments and notes of the finale feature rolling sequences by the timpani. These rolls seem to signal that the overture is ending, but they also contribute to the grande tone that is meant to leave a lasting impression on the listener. The pace of the orchestra slows down from the frantic pace a few seconds ago and here the strings play forte but smoothly, bringing all the sections of the orchestra together and also signalling the end of the overture. The overture ends with each listener remembering the power of that final movement. Works Cited â€Å"Overture 1812†. YouTube. May 29 2010. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=blroZTvCOMQfeature=related â€Å"Repertoire: 1812 Overture†. The Burgess Hill Symphony Orchestra. May 2004. May 28 2010. http://www.bhso.org.uk/repert-173-Tchaikovsky-1812-Overture-Op-49.htm â€Å"Seiji Ozawa: Conductor†. Welcome to the World of the Bach Cantatas. 12 January 2010. May 28 2010. http://www.bach-cantatas.com/Bio/Ozawa-Seiji.htm

I Am Not a Lesbian (for now) :: Personal Narrative Writing

My mother is not a lesbian. Her fraternal twin, Marty, was a lesbian. Marty died of lung cancer when I was seven; she and my mother were thirty-four. My mother’s twin is a martyr in my family, the perfect child, the perfect person. She loved people; she was smart, athletic, active in the fight for women's rights. She taught me how to jump rope on Sanibel Island in Florida. It was windy, but that's all I remember. We went to Philadelphia for the memorial service. Suede, one of Marty's former lovers, played "From a Distance" on her synthesizer. Marty's body was cremated, but we never saw the ashes scattered because a huge snowstorm covered Pennsylvania the day after the service. We ate dinner in Marty's old house, which she shared with Bonnie, her lover at the time. My mother says my father cooked chicken, and Suede played the piano and guitar for us. She played "House at Pooh Corner" and "Peanut Butter and Jelly" for me and my little sister. The August after Marty died, I taught myself how to play "Happy Birthday" on the piano, for my mother. Mom's birthday always created of a huge amount of stress for every member of my family. My father, my younger sister, Cricket, and I, we labored. To make it perfect. On our birthdays, my mother pined and agonized to ensure that every detail went correctly, so the birthday person would be happy. The reservations at the restaurant, the number of party favors, the order of giving presents and playing games, all must be in line. And when something did not go as planned, she would be devastated; we would spend the whole day assuring her that the birthday had gone well, that it had not been ruined by a burnt cake. So when August eleventh rolled around, it was imperative that not a single thing upset her, that we not ruin her birthday. Cricket led Mom by the hand into the living room as I began to play. I only got to the part where it goes high with "happy birthday dear Jody" before I messed up. Pressed the wrong key; the interval was off. I burst into tears. Sobbing on the piano bench, bent over the tainted keys, I realized my mother had also begun to cry, with Cricket in her lap. The only other time I'd ever seen my mother shed a single tear was months before, at Marty's memorial service.

Bloodlines Chapter Eight

â€Å"ARE YOU GOING TO EAT THAT?† asked Eddie. Eddie might not have known about all the shenanigans that went down with Jill on the first day of school, but not seeing her all day had unnerved him. So, when she and I came downstairs for the second day, we found him waiting in our dorm lobby, ready to go with us to breakfast. I pushed my plate and its half a bagel across the table. He'd already polished off a bagel of his own, as well as pancakes and bacon, but was quick to accept my offering. Maybe he was an unnatural hybrid creature, but from what I could tell, his appetite was the same as any human teenage guy. â€Å"How are you feeling?† he asked Jill, once he'd swallowed a mouthful of bagel. Since he'd eventually hear she hadn't been in class, we'd simply told Eddie that Jill had been sick from nerves yesterday. The hangover allegations still infuriated me, but Jill insisted on letting them go. â€Å"Fine,† she said. â€Å"A lot better.† I didn't comment on that but secretly had my doubts. Jill did look better this morning, but she'd hardly had a solid night's sleep. In fact, she'd woken in the middle of the night, screaming. I'd leapt out of my bed, expecting no less than a hundred Strigoi or Moroi assassins to come bursting through our window. But when I'd looked over, there'd only been Jill, thrashing and screaming in her sleep. I'd hurried over and finally woken her up with some difficulty. She'd sat up gasping, drenched in sweat, and clutching her chest. Once she'd calmed down, she'd told me it was only a nightmare, but there'd been something in her eyes†¦ the echo of something real. I knew because it reminded me of the many times I'd woken up thinking the Alchemists were coming to take me to the re-education centers. She'd insisted she was fine, and when morning came, the only acknowledgment she gave of her nightmare was to insist that we not mention it to Eddie. â€Å"It's only going to worry him,† she said. â€Å"And besides, it's not a big deal.† I conceded that point, but when I tried to ask what had happened, she brushed me off and wouldn't talk about it. Now, at breakfast, there was a definite edge to her, but for all I knew, it had more to do with finally facing her first day in a human school. â€Å"I still can't get over how different I am from everyone,† she said in a low voice. â€Å"I mean, for one thing, I'm taller than almost every girl here!† It was true. It wasn't uncommon for Moroi women to push six feet in height. Jill wasn't quite there, but her long, slim build gave the illusion of being taller than she was. â€Å"And I'm really bony.† â€Å"You are not,† I said. â€Å"I'm too skinny – compared to them,† Jill argued. â€Å"Everyone's got something,† countered Eddie. â€Å"That girl over there has a ton of freckles. That guy shaved his head. There's no such thing as ‘normal.'† Jill still looked dubious but doggedly went off to class when the first warning bell rang, promising to meet Eddie for lunch and me in PE. I made it to my history class a few minutes early. Ms. Terwilliger stood at her desk, shuffling some papers around, and I hesitantly approached. â€Å"Ma'am?† She glanced up at me, pushing her glasses up her nose as she did. â€Å"Hmm? Oh, I remember you. Miss Melbourne.† â€Å"Melrose,† I corrected. â€Å"Are you sure? I could've sworn you were named after someplace in Australia.† â€Å"Well, my first name is Sydney,† I said, not sure if I should be encouraging her. â€Å"Ah. Then I'm not crazy. Not yet, at least. What can I do for you, Miss Melrose?† â€Å"I wanted to ask you†¦ well, you see, I have a gap in my schedule because I passed out of the language requirement. I wondered if maybe you needed another teacher aide†¦ like Trey.† The aforementioned Trey was already there, sitting at a desk allotted to him and collating papers. He glanced up at the mention of his name and eyed me warily. â€Å"It's last period, ma'am. So, if there was any extra work you needed†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Her eyes studied me for several moments before she answered. I'd made sure to cover up my tattoo today, but it felt like she was staring right through to it. â€Å"I don't need another teacher aide,† she said bluntly. Trey smirked. â€Å"Mr. Juarez, despite his many limitations, is more than capable of sorting all my stacks of paper.† His smirk disappeared at the backhanded compliment. I nodded and started to turn away, disappointed. â€Å"Okay. I understand.† â€Å"No, no. I don't think you do. You see, I'm writing a book.† She paused, and I realized she was waiting for me to look impressed. â€Å"On heretical religion and magic in the Greco-Roman world. I've lectured on it at Carlton College before. Fascinating subject.† Trey stifled a cough. â€Å"Now, I could really use a research assistant to help me track down certain information, run errands for me, that sort of thing. Would you be interested in that?† I gaped. â€Å"Yes, ma'am. I would be.† â€Å"For you to get credit for an independent study, you'd have to do some project alongside it†¦ research and a paper of your own. Not nearly the length of my book, of course. Is there anything from that era that interests you?† â€Å"Er, yes.† I could hardly believe it. â€Å"Classical art and architecture. I'd love to study it more.† Now she looked impressed. â€Å"Really? Then it seems we're a perfect match. Or, well, nearly. Pity you don't know Latin.† â€Å"Well†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I averted my eyes. â€Å"I, um, actually†¦ I can read Latin.† I dared a glance back at her. Rather than impressed, she mostly looked stunned. â€Å"Well, then. How about that.† She gave a rueful head shake. â€Å"I'm afraid to ask about Greek.† The bell rang. â€Å"Go ahead and take your seat, then come find me at the end of the day. Last period is also my planning period, so we'll have plenty of time to talk and fill out the appropriate paperwork.† I returned to my desk and received an approving fist bump from Eddie. â€Å"Nice work. You don't have to take a real class. Of course, if she's got you reading Latin, maybe it'll be worse than a real class.† â€Å"I like Latin,† I said with absolute seriousness. â€Å"It's fun.† Eddie shook his head and said in a very, very low voice: â€Å"I can't believe you think we're the strange ones.† Trey's comments for me in my next class were less complimentary. â€Å"Wow, you sure have Terwilliger wrapped around your finger.† He nodded toward our chemistry instructor. â€Å"Are you going to go tell her that you split atoms in your free time? Do you have a reactor back in your room?† â€Å"There's nothing wrong with – † I cut myself off, unsure what to say. I'd nearly said â€Å"being smart,† but that sounded egotistical. â€Å"There's nothing wrong with knowing things,† I said at last. â€Å"Sure,† he agreed. â€Å"When it's legitimate knowledge.† I remembered the crazy conversation with Kristin and Julia yesterday. Because I'd had to take Jill to Adrian, I'd missed the study session and couldn't follow up on my tattoo questions. Still, I at least now knew where Trey's disdain was coming from – even though it seemed absurd. No one else at school had specifically mentioned my tattoo being special, but a number of people had approached me already, asking where I'd gotten it. They'd been disappointed when I said South Dakota. â€Å"Look, I don't know where this idea's coming from about my tattoo making me smart, but if that's what you think, well†¦ don't. It's just a tattoo.† â€Å"It's gold,† he argued. â€Å"So?† I asked. â€Å"It's just special ink. I don't get why people would believe it has some mystical properties. Who believes in that stuff?† He snorted. â€Å"Half this school does. How are you so smart, then?† Was I really that much of a freak when it came to academics that people had to turn to supernatural explanations? I went with my stock answer. â€Å"I was homeschooled.† â€Å"Oh,† said Trey thoughtfully. â€Å"That would explain it.† I sighed. â€Å"I bet your homeschooling didn't do much in the way of PE, though,† he added. â€Å"What are you going to do about your sport requirement?† â€Å"I don't know; I hadn't thought about it,† I said, feeling a little uneasy. I could handle Amberwood's academics in my sleep. But its athletics? Unclear. â€Å"Well, you better decide soon; the deadline's coming up. Don't look so worried,† he added. â€Å"Maybe they'll let you start a Latin club instead.† â€Å"What's that supposed to mean?† I asked, not liking the tone. â€Å"I've played sports.† He shrugged. â€Å"If you say so. You don't seem like the athletic type. You seem too†¦ neat.† I wasn't entirely sure if that was a compliment or not. â€Å"What's your sport?† Trey held his chin up, looking very pleased with himself. â€Å"Football. A real man's sport.† A guy sitting nearby overheard him and glanced back. â€Å"Too bad you won't make quarterback, Juarez. You came so close last year. Looks like you're going to graduate without fulfilling yet another dream.† I'd thought Trey didn't like me – but as he turned his attention to the other guy, it was like the temperature dropped ten degrees. I realized in that moment that Trey just liked giving me a hard time. But this other guy? Trey completely despised him. â€Å"I don't remember you even being in the running, Slade,† returned Trey, eyes hard. â€Å"What makes you think you're going to take it this year?† Slade – it wasn't clear to me if that was his first or last name – exchanged knowing glances with a couple friends. â€Å"Just a feeling.† They turned away, and Trey scowled. â€Å"Great,† he muttered. â€Å"Slade finally got the money for one. You want to know about tattoos? Go talk to him.† My thirty-second impression told me Slade was no one I wanted to talk to, but Trey provided no additional explanation. Class soon started, but as I tried to focus on the lesson, all I could think about was Amberwood's apparent obsession with tattoos. What did it mean? When PE came, I was relieved to see Jill in the locker room. The Moroi girl gave me a weary smile as we walked outside. â€Å"How's your day been?† I asked. â€Å"Fine,† Jill said. â€Å"Not great. Not terrible. I haven't really gotten to know many people.† She didn't say it, but Jill's tone implied, â€Å"See? I told you I would stand out.† Yet as the class started, I realized that the problem was that Jill didn't stand out. She avoided eye contact, letting her nerves get the best of her, and made no effort to talk to people. No one openly shunned her, but with the vibes she gave off, no one went out of their way to talk to her either. I certainly wasn't the most social person in the world, but I still smiled and tried to chat with my classmates as we did more volleyball drills. It was enough to foster the sparks of friendship. I also soon noticed another problem. The class had been divided into four teams, playing two concurrent matches. Jill was in the other game, but I still occasionally caught sight of her. She looked miserable and tired within ten minutes, without even having done much in the game. Her reaction time was bad too. A number of balls went past her, and those she did notice were met with clumsy maneuvers. Some of her teammates exchanged frustrated looks behind her back. I returned to my own game, worried for her, just as the opposing team spiked the ball into a zone that wasn't well guarded by my team. I didn't have the reaction time that, say, a dhampir had, but in that split second, my brain knew I could block the ball if I made a hard and fast move. Doing so went against my natural instincts, the ones that said, Don't do anything that will hurt or get you dirty. I'd always carefully reasoned through my actions, never acting on impulse. Not this time. I was going to stop that ball. I dove for it, hitting it into range of another teammate who was able to then spike it back over the net and out of danger. The volley pushed me to a hard landing on my knees. It was ungraceful and jarred my teeth, but I'd stopped the opposition from scoring. My teammates cheered, and I was surprised to find myself laughing. I'd always been trained that everything I did had to have a greater, practical purpose. Sports were sort of antithetical to the Alchemist way of li fe, because they were just for fun. But maybe fun wasn't so bad once in a while. â€Å"Nice, Melrose,† said Miss Carson, strolling by. â€Å"If you want to defer your sport until winter and be on the volleyball team, come talk to me later.† â€Å"Well done,† said Micah, and offered me his hand. I shook my head and stood up on my own. I was dismayed to see a scrape on one of my legs but was still grinning from ear to ear. If anyone had told me two weeks ago that I'd be so happy about rolling around in the dirt, I wouldn't have believed it. â€Å"She doesn't give out compliments very often.† It was true. Miss Carson had already been on Jill a number of times and was now halting our game to correct a teammate's sloppy form. I took advantage of the break to watch Jill, whose game was still in action. Micah followed my gaze. â€Å"Doesn't run in the family, huh?† he asked sympathetically. â€Å"No,† I murmured. My smile faded. I felt a pang of guilt in my chest over exalting so much in my own triumph when Jill was obviously struggling. It didn't seem fair. Jill still looked exhausted, and her curly hair was drenched in sweat. Pink spots had appeared on her cheeks, giving her a feverish look, and it seemed to take all her effort to remain upright. It was strange that Jill would have so much difficulty. I'd overheard a brief conversation in which she and Eddie had discussed combat and defensive moves, giving me the impression that Jill was fairly athletic. She and Eddie had even talked about practicing later that night and – â€Å"The sun,† I groaned. â€Å"Huh?† asked Micah. I'd mentioned my concerns about the sun to Stanton, but she'd dismissed them. She'd just advised that Jill be careful to stay inside – which Jill did. Except, of course, when school requirements made her take a class that kept her outside. Forcing her to play sports out in the full blaze of the Palm Springs sun was cruel. It was a wonder she was still standing. I sighed, making a mental note to call the Alchemists later. â€Å"We're going to have to get her a doctor's note.† â€Å"What are you talking about?† asked Micah. The game was back on, and he shifted into position beside me. â€Å"Oh. Jill. She's†¦ she's sensitive to the sun. Kind of like an allergic thing.† As though on cue, we heard Miss Carson exclaim from the other court: â€Å"Melrose Junior! Are you blind? Did you not see that coming right toward you?† Jill swayed on her feet but took the criticism meekly. Micah watched them with a frown, and as soon as Miss Carson was off picking on someone else, he darted out of formation and ran over to Jill's game. I hastily tried to cover both his and my own positions. Micah ran up to a guy beside Jill, whispered something, and pointed back at me. A moment later, the guy ran over to my team and Micah took the spot beside Jill. As class continued, I realized what was happening. Micah was good at volleyball – very good. So much so that he was able to defend his spot and Jill's. Without seeing any blatant blunders, Miss Carson kept her attention elsewhere, and Jill's team grew a little less hostile toward her. When the game ended, Micah caught hold of Jill's arm and quickly walked her over to a shaded spot. From the way she staggered, he seemed to be all that was holding her upright. I was about to join them when I heard loud voices beside me. â€Å"I'm getting it tonight. The guy I talked to swears it's gonna be badass.† It was Slade, the guy who'd sparred with Trey earlier. I hadn't realized it out in the sun in the middle of the game, but he was the player Micah had swapped places with. â€Å"It better be,† continued Slade, â€Å"for how much he's charging me.† Two of Slade's friends joined him as they began heading toward the locker room. â€Å"When are tryouts, Slade?† one of his friends asked. In chemistry, I'd learned Slade's first name was Greg, but everyone seemed to refer to him by his last name, even teachers. â€Å"Friday,† Slade said. â€Å"I'm going to kill. Like totally destroy them. I'm gonna rip Juarez's spine out and make him eat it.† Charming, I thought, watching them go. My initial assessment of Slade had been correct. I turned toward Jill and Micah and saw that he'd gotten ahold of a water bottle for her. They seemed okay for the moment, so I caught Miss Carson's attention as she walked by. â€Å"My sister gets sick in the sun,† I said. â€Å"This is really hard on her.† â€Å"Lots of kids have trouble in the heat at first,† said Miss Carson knowingly. â€Å"They just need to toughen up. You handled yourself okay.† â€Å"Yeah, well, she and I are pretty different,† I said dryly. If only she knew. â€Å"I don't think she's going to ‘toughen up.'† â€Å"Nothing I can do,† said Miss Carson. â€Å"If I let her sit out, do you have any idea how many other kids would suddenly ‘feel tired in the sun'? Unless she's got a doctor's note, she's got to stick it out.† I thanked her and went to join Jill and Micah. As I approached, I heard Micah saying, â€Å"Get cleaned up, and I'll walk you to your next class. We can't have you fainting in the halls.† He paused and considered. â€Å"Of course, I'm totally happy to catch you if you do faint.† Jill was understandably dazed but was with it enough to thank him. She told him she'd meet him soon and walked to the girls' locker room with me. I eyed the grin on Micah's face, and a troubling thought occurred to me. Jill seemed stressed enough so I decided not to say anything, but my concern grew when we left for last period. Micah walked with Jill, as promised, and told her that later, when evening came, he'd tutor her in volleyball if she wanted. As we stood outside the classroom, a girl with long red hair and a haughty attitude walked by, trailed by an entourage of other girls. She paused when she saw Micah and tossed her hair over one shoulder, flashing him a big smile. â€Å"Hey, Micah.† Micah was engrossed with Jill and barely glanced in the other girl's direction. â€Å"Oh, hey, Laurel.† He walked away, and Laurel watched him go, her expression turning dark. She shot a dangerous look at Jill, whipped her long hair over her shoulder, and stormed off. Uh-oh, I thought as I watched her stalk down the hall. Is that going to come back and haunt us? It was one of those moments when I could have used a lesson in social cues. I went to Ms. Terwilliger's classroom afterward and spent most of that initial meeting setting up the semester's goals and outlining what I'd be doing for her. I was in store for a lot of reading and translation, which suited me just fine. It also appeared as though half of my job would be keeping her organized – something else I excelled at. The time flew by, and as soon as I was free, I hurried off to find Eddie. He was waiting with a group of other boys at the shuttle stop to go back to their dorm. When he saw me, his response was the usual: â€Å"Is Jill okay?† â€Å"Fine†¦ well, kind of. Can we talk somewhere?† Eddie's face darkened, no doubt thinking there was a legion of Strigoi on their way to hunt Jill. We stepped back inside one of the academic buildings, finding chairs in a private corner that enjoyed the full force of air conditioning. I gave him a quick update on Jill and her sunny PE misadventures. â€Å"I didn't think it would be this bad,† said Eddie grimly, echoing my thoughts. â€Å"Thank God Micah was there. Is there anything you can do?† â€Å"Yeah, we should be able to get something from our ‘parents' or a doctor.† As much as I hated to, I added, â€Å"Keith might be able to expedite it.† â€Å"Good,† said Eddie fiercely. â€Å"We can't have her getting beat up out there. I'll go talk to that teacher myself, if that's what it takes.† I hid a smile. â€Å"Well, hopefully it won't come to that. But there is something else†¦ nothing dangerous,† I amended quickly, seeing that warrior look cross his face again. â€Å"Just something†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I tried not to say the words that were popping into my mind. Horrifying. Wrong. â€Å"Concerning. I think†¦ I think Micah likes Jill.† Eddie's face went very still. â€Å"Of course he likes her. She's nice. He's nice. He likes everyone.† â€Å"That's not what I mean, and you know it. He likes her. In the more-than-friends way. What are we going to do about that?† Eddie stared off across the hall for a few moments before turning back to me. â€Å"Why do we have to do anything?† â€Å"How can you ask that?† I exclaimed, shocked by the response. â€Å"You know why. Humans and vampires can't be together! It's disgusting and wrong.† The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. â€Å"Even a dhampir like you should know that.† He smiled ruefully. ‘†Even a dhampir like me?'† I supposed I'd been a little insulting, but it couldn't be helped. Alchemists – myself included – never believed dhampirs and Moroi worried enough about the same problems we did. They might acknowledge a taboo like this, but years of training said that only we humans really took it seriously. That was why the Alchemist job was so important. If we didn't look after these matters, who would? â€Å"I mean it,† I told him. â€Å"This is something all of us agree on.† His smile faded. â€Å"Yeah, it is.† Even Rose and Dimitri, who had a high tolerance for craziness, had been shocked at meeting the Keepers, rogue Moroi who intermingled freely with dhampirs and humans. It was a taboo the three of us shared, and we'd worked hard to tolerate the custom while with the Keepers. They lived hidden in the Appalachian Mountains and had provided excellent refuge when Rose was on the run. Ignoring their savage ways had been an acceptable price for the security they'd offered us. â€Å"Can you talk to him?† I asked. â€Å"I don't think Jill has any strong feelings. She's got too many other things going on. She probably knows better anyway†¦ but it'd still be best if you could discourage him. We can stop this before she gets involved.† â€Å"What do you expect me to say?† Eddie asked. He sounded at a loss, which struck me as funny, considering he'd been ready to go make all sorts of demands to Miss Carson on Jill's behalf. â€Å"I don't know. Play the big brother card. Act protective. Say she's too young.† I expected Eddie to agree, but he once more averted his eyes. â€Å"I don't know if we should say anything.† â€Å"What? Are you insane? Do you think it's okay to – â€Å" â€Å"No, no.† He sighed. â€Å"I'm not advocating it. But look at it this way. Jill's stuck in a school full of humans. It's not fair that she be banned from hanging out with any guys.† â€Å"I think Micah wants to do more than hang out.† â€Å"Well, why shouldn't she get to go on a date now and then? Or go to a dance? She should get to do all the normal things a girl her age does. She's already had her life radically changed. We shouldn't make it any harder.† I eyed him in disbelief, trying to figure out why he was so laid back about this. Admittedly, he didn't face the same consequences I did. If my superiors found out I was â€Å"encouraging† human and vampire dating, it'd be more evidence against me and my alleged bias. After all, my reputation wasn't yet restored with the Alchemists. Still, I knew Eddie's people didn't like the idea of dating, either. So what was the problem? A strange answer suddenly came to me. â€Å"I feel like you just don't want to confront Micah.† Eddie looked right at me. â€Å"It's complicated,† he said. Something in his face told me I'd hit the mark. â€Å"Why don't you talk to Jill? She knows the rules. She'll understand that she can be with him without getting serious.† â€Å"I think it's a bad idea,† I said, still unable to believe he was taking this stance. â€Å"We're creating a gray area here that's eventually going to cause confusion. We should keep it black and white and ban her from dating while she's here.† That wry smile returned. â€Å"Everything's black and white with you Alchemists, isn't it? Do you think you can really stop her from doing anything? You should know better. Even your childhood couldn't have been that abnormal.† With that slap in the face, Eddie stalked off, leaving me aghast. What had just happened? How could Eddie – who was so adamant about doing the right thing for Jill – be okay with her casually dating Micah? There was something weird going on here, something connected to Micah, though I couldn't figure out what. Well, I refused to let this matter go. It was too important. I'd talk to Jill and make sure she knew right from wrong. If necessary, I'd also talk to Micah – though I still felt that conversation would be better coming from Eddie. And, I realized, thinking of how I had to go hunt down a doctor's note, there was one more source I could appeal to, one that had a lot of influence over Jill.Adrian. Looked like I'd be paying him another visit.

Why Should I Start Exercising - 1599 Words

Why Should I Start Exercising? By Ed Hanada | Submitted On February 05, 2013 Recommend Article Article Comments Print Article Share this article on Facebook Share this article on Twitter Share this article on Google+ Share this article on Linkedin Share this article on StumbleUpon Share this article on Delicious Share this article on Digg Share this article on Reddit Share this article on Pinterest Are you new to exercising? Have you tried to exercise to lose weight or to get fit and then you stopped because of the barriers that you put up that sabotaged your well-intentioned efforts? I was once a newbie too, and I had a long list of excuses that I would go through, one by one, until I was convinced that the benefits of doing A, B,†¦show more content†¦You may have children with busy schedules too (soccer practice, music lessons, homework that needs your input), or you might do a lot of volunteer work, or it might be that you don t know how to start a type of activity that can give you a good enough workout in the little time that you have. You may also live in a building or area that doesn t have a gym or area to work out in. You might have some achiness in your joints or back that you are afraid might get worse if you start to exercise again. Most likely, you might have a combination of the above. Believe me, I know all of these barriers too well and I have used every one of them to hijack my own efforts in getting fit. However, there is no better time to start exercising to get fit than RIGHT NOW! The barriers might seem too numerous to count and often seem insurmountable, but the short-term and the long-term benefits are absolutely HUGE! Let me explain how exercise can change your life for the better. The Benefits! (with a capital B and an exclamation mark!) 1. Body With exercise, your body will thank you with a big Ahhhhhhhh! I needed that! You will look and feel younger with regular exercise, and this is largely due to all of the positive changes that regular activity will do for your body. You will have improved your heart function, and lowered your blood pressure and bad