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19 February 2007 / April


The other day I was in the kitchen with my mom. She turned on the stove, pointed to the range, and instructed me, “Don’t touch that.” Now was that really necessary?

It felt like snow today. I sat by windows and sensed snow floating
through the air in my peripheral vision. But when I looked, it wasn’t

I can always tell when I’m about to make a big mistake while playing the piano. I get that feeling of impending catastrophe that afflicts animals before earthquakes and students before suspected pop quizzes. Instinct, you could say.

The end of the driveway near the road is the hardest to shovel. Not only is it widest there, but when the snow plows come by, all the snow on the road gets pushed there. So there’s effectively twice the height of snow over twice the area.

Now calculate the increase in volume…

I used to go to bookstores and not buy any books, because I had no reviews or recommendations to rely on. Now I go to bookstores and still don’t buy any books, because I’ve read or heard so many reviews and recommendations that I don’t know where to start.

Numbers are like little buses that transport me seamlessly from thought to thought in my mind. Today I went on a brief ride from a metronome marking of 176 to my birthday on 4/9 through a surprising number of arithmetical bus stops.

And somehow, none of it felt contrived.



Leave a Comment
  1. Rebecca / Feb 23 2007 2:00 pm

    Hey April,

    I found you on I took the cube across from yours, and when I left you a comment telling you so, I spelt ‘across’ wrong. Geez.

    Your writing is very thoughtful and charming. I find that so rare for a sixteen year-old (assuming that I got your age right, and if I didn’t, I’m sorry!). Anyhow, I just stumbled over to say hello, because I like reading the blogs of other folk.

    Thumbs up.

  2. April / Feb 23 2007 8:04 pm

    Wow, thanks for the visit Rebecca!

  3. Amy Phyllis / Mar 3 2007 1:06 am

    Actually, your birthday is 4/9.

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