About me.

I'm Leia. I'm 15 and Mormon. I enjoy drawing and playing my sousaphone. I love Kirsten and Dakota. Woot :)
^^ Well this is what Kirsten told me to say ^^^

It is true. I am what people call a "Mormon" however that is just a nickname. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints.
I do enjoy drawing, but I've recently found I am not a fan of painting. I kinda suck at it... Especially if it's tempra paint. Give me a pencil and colored pencil and I would be very happy.
I am in love with my tuba and my sousaphone. Along with the 10 commandments (which I try my best to live by) I also live by the "Tuba Commandments" (posted below) I've been growing closer to my long lost pal the trumpet (we are not as close as we used to be, but we are working on it.)
I do love Kirsten and Dakota... Maybe not Dakota as much as some other people love him cough cough but that bacon obsessed baritone player is a pretty cool guy if I might say so myself. Kirsten on the other hand... while being an oboe player (ech) and math person rather than a speechie, promised me that she would do speech next year so I guess she's alright... Jk. Kirsten is an awesome friend. (I was serious about the oboe thing... Talk about quackpipes or duckbags (my made up word to describe the sound an oboe makes combining ducks and bagpipes.)) :)
Hope this bio was ok for you Kirsten. :P

Tuba Commandments:

1. Thou shalt wear they beret to the right, nay to the left!
2. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's mouthpiece extenders.
3. Thou shalt not throw garbage in thy neighbor's sousaphone bell.
4. When faith in thy music falters, improvise... LOUD.
5. Thou shalt not play when thy spit valve needeth be emptied.
6. Thou shalt learn how to count.
7. Thou shalt keep thy tuba up while thou art playin, or thou shalt face certain death.
8. Thou shalt annoy the flutists whenever thou shalt find it convenient.
9. Thou shalt always scream excessively loud when cheering.
10. Thou shalt always blame the percussion because thou art never wrong.

Taylor by Jack Johnson

Peter Patrick pitter patters on the window
And Sunny Silhouette won't let him in
and poor old Pete's got nothin 'cause he's been fallin'
but somehow Sunny knows just where he's been
He thinks that singin' on a Sunday's gonna save his soul
but now that Saturday's gone
Well sometimes he thinks that he's on his way
but I can see, that his break lights are on

And he just wanders around unaffected by the winter winds, yeah
and he'll pretend that
well he's somewhere else
so far and clear
about 2,000 miles from here.

She's such a tough enchilada
filled up with nada
givin' what you gotta give to get a dollar bill
she used to be a limber chick
time's a been tickin'
now she's finger licking to the man
with the money in his pocket
flying in his rocket
only stoppin by on his way to a better world
if Taylor finds a better world
Taylor's gonna run away